Everybody's Changing
by alice.in.ink
Summary: After Kate Winchester goes off on an interview alone, she comes back to her brothers a bit... off. Dean and Sam are hellbent to figure out what is plaguing their sister and kill it-before it kills her. A tale in the untold saga of the Winchester brothers and their sister, Kate. (AU Sisfic with OC. Rated T for language and violence. Updated daily.)
1. Prologue: Baby vs The Vamps

_**This is my first Supernatural story, and it is my telling of the Winchesters with a sister. Her name is Kate, and she's Sam's younger twin. I plan to update this story around once a day until all eleven chapters are out. (The chapters definitely vary in length, by the way.)**_

 _ **Welcome to**_ **Everybody's Changing.**

 _ **Prologue: Baby vs. The Vamps (It's Gonna Get Ugly)**_

Dean tightened the knot on the handkerchief around my ankle before giving me The Point. "Stay here."

 _Oh, please_. "Dean, I rolled my ankle; I can still swing a machete."

His face was impassive. "Either way, we're not testing it. Let's go, Sam." He threw the car keys on me before turning to grab our brother by the shoulder. Sam gave me a sympathetic smile and followed after the oldest. Both headed out of the edge of the trees we had hidden the car in and towards the large, abandoned factory building.

With a groan, I flopped back onto the leather seat of the Impala. If it had been Dean with a rolled ankle, he would have scoffed and smacked anybody who suggested he stay behind. But because I was a girl and because I was _technically_ the youngest ( _BUT ONLY BY TWO MINUTES, FOR GOD'S SAKE_ ), I was expected to sit patiently in the car. It was insulting to my hunter training.

"Fine," I grumbled to myself as I pulled myself towards the front seat. "If I'm going to be sitting in the godforsaken car, I'm choosing the driving music." I knew Dean would fight me on it the second he got behind the wheel, but I could win the musical choices for a minute or two.

I plopped into the driver's seat and carefully lowered my feet in front of me. I popped open the glove box and started rifling through the tapes we kept stashed in there. _Aw, yes_. The teenager in me would always give in to the classic Radiohead. My brothers claimed that it was too "mellow-touchy-feely" for them, but they were just unrefined.

I pulled Dean's mixtape out and shoved mine in. As I did, I glanced up and noticed vampires trying to make it out the back entrance. God, there were at least five of them making a great escape, and my idiot brothers were nowhere in sight.

S _tay here, or go after the vamps. Go after the vamps, or stay here._ I took a moment to throw my options back and forth before I realized: I could go after the vampires _while_ staying here. With a smirk, I shoved the keys into the ignition.

The engine would be an obvious giveaway, so I took the only choice I had—revved the engine and powerhoused towards those blood-chugging bastards. I flew across the empty grass and steamrolled over two of the vamps before they even knew what hit 'em.

I grabbed my machete from the backseat floor and flew open the car door, smacking one of them to the ground. I jumped out and gritted my teeth as I used my busted ankle. I brought the machete down hard on the vampire I'd smacked to the ground, cutting his head clean off.

Two vamps left. They hissed and sprang at once. I was ready for the one on the left, and I was able to chop off the head. The one on the right, however, got me. He threw me back into the driver's door, and my head smacked it _hard_. I heard the window crack as the machete fell from my hand. My vision spun as I thought both about the vampire attacking me and the fact that Dean was positively, absolutely going to kill me for using Baby as a weapon.

I grappled for the machete, but the vampire came towards me and stepped on my wrist.

"You got fire in you," the dead guy said in a raspy voice. "And you killed a lot of my men. I could use someone like you in my new family."

And, God, all I could do was blurt the one, obvious retort that you should never use on vampires. "Bite me."

He grinned, taking that as an invitation. "Maybe just a small one." Foot still on my wrist, he grabbed my pulsating head and sank his teeth into my neck.

I screamed as he tore through my flesh, but just as quickly as it started, it stopped. He was ripped off of me, and his head was rolling away in the next second. His body fell in a heap at the feet of a panting, bloodied Sam.

"You OK?" Sam asked, hurrying over to me. I nodded and put a hand to my bleeding neck. It wasn't that bad; nothing that wouldn't stop on its own. Sam helped me up, but I noticed how he winced when I leaned on him.

"Are _you_ OK?" I asked back.

He gave a short nod. "Bruised my shoulder when one threw me down."

Sam and I were suddenly shoved down to the ground, and the two vampires I'd run over stood over us. As Sam and I scrambled for our dropped machetes, one of the vampire's heads toppled off its body. The other one was too stunned at the attack to prepare for its immediate death; headless, it fell lifelessly onto the other.

"You're dead meat," Dean vowed, pointing at me with one hand and holding a bloody machete in the other.

Sam and I pushed ourselves up, and my tall brother let me lean my weight onto him rather than my ankle.

"Technically, I did stay in the car," I couldn't help but add. Dean's deadly look told me that the logic was not helping my case. Wordlessly, I hobbled to the backseat of the still-running Impala.

" _Aw, Baby_ ," Dean whined, taking in the sight of his busted window. As Sam went into the passenger's side, he gave me an are-you-suicidal look. As Dean circled the car to inspect for more damage, I was beginning to think that I was.

"Do you think two vampires chipped the paint?" I whispered desperately to Sam. We watched as Dean crouched in front of the car with a look of agony.

"Based on Dean's birthing face out there," Sam said, "I'd venture yeah; they did."

"If I tuck and roll now, he won't find me for at least a day. That's enough cool-off time, right?"

Sam turned to give me a sympathetic look. "For the Impala?" He shook his head and turned back around.

Fuming, Dean got back into the car. He slammed the door shut, and the cracked window gave; it shattered completely and fell in shards down the side of the car and into Dean's lap. If my chest wasn't choking me with adrenaline-fueled panic, I would have pointed out that my head caused that and, yes, it did hurt.

"Dean…" Sam tried.

Dean held up a finger, telling him to zip it. He remained otherwise motionless, staring out the windshield and trying to control his furious breathing.

 _Oh, God._ I couldn't take this. "Dean, I'm so sorr—"

"Don't." After another minute of silence, Dean pushed the gear into drive and drove back towards the highway.

A few minutes into the drive, Dean pushed the radio on, and more panic filled me. Radiohead's song _High and Dry_ crooned through the car. With a sharp jerk, Dean slapped the music off. His knuckles were tight on the steering wheel, and he was breathing pretty hard.

We spent the next ten minutes in a tense silence; the only sound was the rushing, cold night wind that hit us through the gaping window.

I tried again. "Dean, I really didn't mean to hurt—"

" _Kate._ " His eyes met mine through the rearview mirror. He was not ready to forgive. I pressed my lips together and sank into the leather seat.

About twenty minutes later, Dean grumbled over the wind, "Is everyone OK?"

"Yeah," Sam said, and I echoed him.

It was about another five minutes of wind-swirling silence before Sam ventured the question, "Where are we going?"

"Bobby's," Dean said. "I have to get this busted window fixed." His warning eyes met mine in the mirror again, and I shrank further into the seat so I would be out of his line of sight.

* * *

When I woke up late the following morning in Bobby's guest bed, I did so with dread. When we got here last night, Dean didn't even say anything to us. He told Bobby that we'd be around for a few days, threw his keys onto the counter, and stomped up to a spare bedroom. Bobby helped me and Sam to put together ice packs—one for Sam's shoulder and two for my ankle and head—before we all went to bed.

With trepidation, I got out of bed and instantly cringed. My ankle was throbbing, ginormous, and purple. I grimaced as I turned it over, and my head pulsed to remind me that it, too, was sore. I sighed and went off in search of ice and meds.

When I hobbled to the bottom of the stairs, I noticed that Dean was in the kitchen. Panicked, I looked around, but the other two male buffers were nowhere to be seen. Quietly, I inched a foot back up a stair in the hopes of silent retreat.

"You know you've never been able to sneak past me, and nothin's changed," Dean said, pouring his coffee with his back to me.

I gritted my teeth and gingerly went back down the bottom stair. "I had hopes."

Dean turned towards me, and leaned against the counter with his mug in hand. His left eye sported a nasty purple bruise. "How's the ankle?"

I shrugged to play it off since he couldn't see it under my pajama bottoms. I didn't want to go straight for the ice to tip him off either. Some part of me didn't want to appear weak to my oldest brother. Maybe I didn't want to confirm his belief that I was the youngest and therefore the weakest.

Instead, I went for the box of Lucky Charms on top of the fridge. I grabbed the milk, a bowl, and a spoon before taking my goods over to the kitchen table. I did all I could to walk as evenly on my feet as possible.

But Dean saw through it. With a sigh, he joined me at the kitchen table and lifted my hurt ankle into his lap. He swiftly and carefully rolled the pant leg up. "Jesus Christ, Katie. Did you even ice this thing?"

"Last night," I answered around a mouthful of Lucky Charms.

Dean put my foot back down and leaned against the kitchen table with his hands on his neck.

I was just about to comfort him when Bobby strutted in. "Mornin'. How's your head?" His attention was on me, making Dean's attention return to me.

I tried to shrug it off and continue eating my cereal. "Fine."

"You hit your head?" Dean questioned. I could see mixed feelings brewing under his nonchalant demeanor.

I shrugged again. "It wasn't too bad."

Sam walked in with a scoff. "Her head went sailing through the car window." I glared at him, and he gave me an I'm-the-innocent-messenger look. He swiped the Lucky Charms from me and started filling his own bowl.

"I'mma go start workin' on the car," Bobby announced, backing out the front door. Part of me was grateful for intuitively seeing that this was a conversation siblings needed to have; the other part of me wanted to latch onto his flannel shirt and never let me stay alone with Dean's brewing anger.

The front door slammed, and the three of us were left in a tense silence. Sam and I exchanged looks over our Lucky Charms while Dean stared at the table. After about a minute, I decided that I wasn't all that hungry anymore. I grabbed my bowl and stood up.

"Sit." Dean had this voice that usually parents had. Maybe it was because Dean was the closest thing I felt I had to parent growing up, but I obeyed him instinctively.

Dean got up and fished around in the freezer for some ice packs. He threw one to Sam and one to me. He then took the last one and started wrapping it around my ankle with a spare kitchen towel.

"Dean, I'm really sorry about the Impala," I rushed to apologize. "I saw those vampires escaping, and I was in the car already, and I just didn't think. I really didn't mean—"

"I'm not mad about the Impala." He tied off the knot on the towel.

"Y-you're not?" This was beyond my wildest dreams.

He looked back up at me with a bitch face. "Well, hell yeah I'm pissed about the Impala. I mean, what kind of idiot—" He stopped himself with a harsh breath and started again. "I'm a little mad about the car, but I'm more pissed at myself."

Sam and I looked at each other in wonder. We had no idea where this was going.

Dean got back onto his chair and leaned on his knees. "We got home, and your ankle was busted, your head flew through a window, and Sammy's shoulder is black and blue, and all I cared about was the car. I didn't even…" He stopped and ran a hand down his face. "I'm sorry. I overreacted."

He was blaming himself for… not taking care of us?

"Dean, we're twenty-four," Sam chimed in. "It's not your job to ice our bruises anymore."

"Besides, I kind of gave you a good reason to be pissed at us," I added hesitantly.

Dean scoffed and leaned back into his chair. "It'll always be my job to look out for you two knuckleheads. But you two just try to make my job a hell of a lot harder by being so frickin' accident-prone."

I smirked and hugged my worrywart of a brother. "Thanks for looking out for me, Dean."

He hugged me back and grumbled, "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just stop being an idiot around danger, alright?" He got up and grabbed the keys off of the counter before whirling back on me. "And you're not allowed to touch Baby anymore!"

"For how long?!" While his demand was warranted, I was insulted nonetheless.

"Indefinitely," he said with a wave of his hands.

Sam gave me a pitying grimace and turned to our brother. "How long we stayin' here for?"

Dean shrugged. "Maybe a week. I'll fix up Baby while you two bozos heal up."

Sam gave a nod. "I heard some rumors about weird deaths happening in some small town in Ohio. I'll keep tabs on it, and we can check it out in a few days if it turns into anything." Dean gave an approving nod.

I shook a victorious fist. "Weird deaths!"

Both of my brothers gave me concerned, odd looks.

"OK, I'm not celebrating the fact that people have died," I defended. "Just that it isn't the overdone werewolf or vampire attacks."

"OK, sadist," Sam said, mussing up my brunette hair as he passed me to bring his bowl to the sink.

Dean was already walking out the door. "Katie, stop being creepy! Sam, stop using college words!" The front door slammed behind him.

 _ **Here we go, kids. :)**_


	2. Chapter 1: Big Surprise—People Die

" _So little time.  
Try to understand that I'm  
Trying to make a move just to stay in the game.  
I try to stay awake and remember my name,  
But everybody's changing, and I don't feel the same._

 _You're gone from here;  
Soon you will disappear,  
Fading into beautiful light.  
'Cause everybody's changing,  
And I don't feel right."_

-Keane, _Everybody's Changing_

 _ **Chapter 1: Big Surprise—People Die**_

Dean nudged the body with the toe of his boot.

I sighed dramatically to signal my boredom; his head snapped up with a pinched expression. "What? Dead body not exciting enough for you, princess?"

I leaned against the trunk of a tree, arms crossed across my chest. "People die all the time, Dean."

His expression clearly displayed his displeasure and confusion at my statement. ( _What? It was true_.) "What is with you lately, Kate?"

Now I looked at him like _he_ was the insane one. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

His eyebrows raised as he turned back to the body. "It means you've had a case of chronic bitchiness all freaking day, that's what."

I shrugged myself away from the tree and marched towards my brother. "We see dead bodies every damn day. Why is this one any more special than the last one?" Some part of me realized what I was saying was extremely callous; the majority of me didn't give a damn.

Dean straightened and faced me, his eyes scouring over every inch of my face. "Something's up with you. Did something happen yesterday?"

I squinted. "I was with you, you idiot."

"No. You were alone for a few hours, checking out that lead on Grandma Crazy. What happened there?"

" _Nothing_." God, how many times did we have to do this? "I asked questions, she answered, just like I told you _yesterday_." I whirled away from him and began prodding the torn-apart body for any clues.

This whole case was bat-shit. It started with a chick choking to death on spiders, then some nerd get hit by a meteor, and now this guy got mauled in a forest. And holy hell, was this corpse shredded. I stuffed my fingers into the bloodied flesh of his leg, feeling for a cellphone. _Ah, got it._

Dean grumbled behind me, something about Sam, as I flicked through the phone. Blood from my fingers smeared the screen. I grimaced, wiped them on a cleanish spot of the dead guy's pants, and kept scrolling.

"The last person this guy talked to was some chick," I said, eyes on the screen. "Amelia. We—"

" _RUN!_ "

Dean was instantly on high alert, scanning the woods with a drawn gun. I glanced up from the phone, saw nothing, and went back to the screen. Dean had it covered.

"KATE! DEAN! RUN!"

Annoyed at being interrupted again, I flicked my glare towards where the sound was coming from. Bolting through the trees was the speeding, lumbering form of my gigantic brother. He looked frantic. _Why the hell didn't he just shoot whatever was chasing him?_

"Kate!" Dean barked, yanking me to my feet by my upper arm. "What the hell?! Let's go!" He gave me an urgent shove, pushing me in the direction of the edge of the forest.

I rolled my eyes and stuffed the phone into my leather jacket. At a jog, I took off for the Impala.

"Sammy!" Dean stayed a bit behind, making sure his brother got away from whatever was hot on his ass.

They must have caught up to each other pretty quickly because the next thing I knew, I had two large hands gripping each of my arms, dragging me at a breakneck pace towards the Impala. (Apparently, a swift jog wasn't going to cut it with these two.)

My brothers threw themselves into the car, as I fluidly slid into the backseat. Dean was burning rubber before I even closed my door.

"What the hell was that?!" Dean demanded, casting a frantic, concerned look to his brother.

Sam's shaking hand ran through his long hair. "I-I don't know! It looked like a Hellhound!"

I was getting hungry. I opened my mouth to voice this concern, but Dean cut me off with a disbelieving " _Hellhound_?!"

Sam shook his head in disbelief. "There was a giant, black, snarling monster chasing me. Hellhound is the only thing I can think of that matches up."

I went to inquire about stopping at a McDonald's, but Dean cut me off again. "It's not like you can outrun a Hellhound, Sam." Dean cast a suspicious glare on Sam. "Did you make some deal with the devil that I don't know about?"

I rolled my eyes. _Fine. Gum would do just fine._ I fished around on the floor, looking for a stray packet.

Sam's hands flew up. "I don't know what it was, Dean! And if it was a Hellhound, I have no idea why the hell it would be chasing _me_!"

The dirty blond threw a disbelieving look. "And you didn't try just _shooting_ the bastard?"

"I did!" Sam defended. "It knocked me down, and I dropped the gun before I could get a shot off!"

Dean grumbled about slow reflexes and directed his attention back on the road. I stuffed a stick of gum in my mouth.

Dean looked in the rearview mirror, searching for any sign of the black beast behind us. Satisfied with what he saw, his sharp gaze locked onto mine in the mirror. I snapped my gum.

Before Dean could bitch anymore about me, Sam asked, "So, what happened with the body? Any leads?"

I sat forward, pulling out the bloodied cellphone. "Yep. The guy has been in touch with this chick Amelia. She's been texting him nonstop for days with that this worried shit, and he didn't respond to any of it. But, he called her right before he croaked." I tucked the phone back into jacket after memorizing her contact info's street address. "If we're lucky, she heard the whole shebang."

Dean was tense, and Sam looked at me in concern with those Big Ol' Sam eyes.

I raised an eyebrow. "What? You know that would help us solve the case."

"Yeah…" Sam threw Dean a worried look before turning back towards me. "But—"

"Well, did you find any leads when you were prancing around the forest?" I challenged, cutting of his clinginess.

Sam blinked before solemnly answering, "Not really. Just pieces of Adam's torn shirt."

Dean shook his head. "Whatever the hell killed that guy better not have taken a liking to the Winchester scent." Sam's expression pinched at that.

I reached towards the radio and cranked up one of Dean's cassettes.

* * *

We spent the night in the motel and—what do ya know—zero Hellhounds showed up in the night.

"It's almost as if there was none to begin with," I told Sam while lacing up my boots at the couch.

Sam's concerned eyes soaked in the sight of me. I rolled my eyes and turned away to finish my other boot.

"Sam, can you come help me load up the trunk?" Dean called, moving out the door.

"Yeah," the taller brother answered, following close behind. Sam threw me a slight, parting grin as he closed the door; Dean didn't look back.

I tugged my leather jacket on, ran a hand threw my long, shaggy hair, and called it good. I knew those two were talking about me, and I wanted to know what they thought their plan was.

I crept around the motel, keeping my boots silent as I got just within earshot.

"I don't know what we can do, Dean, if she doesn't want to talk about it." Sam sighed.

"She doesn't even understand what there is to talk about!" Dean snapped.

Sam held up his calm-down hands. "Look, I know that there is something wrong here. But if she won't admit it, what can we do?"

Dean shook his head. "Something happened yesterday, and I'm going to find out what. Until then, she's… she's a liability, Sam. Did you see how she acted when you screamed for us to run? A snail could have passed her, man! She didn't care!"

Sam suppressed another sigh. "Shouldn't we sit down and talk to her about this?"

Dean turned slightly away, running a hand down his face. "Yeah. Later. Until then, she's sitting this case out." ( _Ha. As if, big brother_.)

Sam snorted. "You tell her that."

"I will," Dean shot back. He turned away from Sam, stomping in the direction of our room. With a sigh, Sam followed.

Well they could have fun bitching at the empty motel room all they wanted; I was going to talk to Amelia. I hot-wired the nearest truck and smirked. I was the one with Dead Adam's cellphone; I was the one with Amelia's address.

I peeled out in time to see my brothers push back out of the empty motel room, see me speeding away, and curse.


	3. Chapter 2: Bitchy Brothers Are Bitchy

_**Chapter 2: Bitchy Brothers Are Bitchy**_

"I… I really don't know." Amelia watched me with tear-filled eyes, clutching her cardigan closer to her hunched frame.

I rolled my eyes. I get that her fiancé just died yesterday or whatever, but did she have to be the most damn clueless person on the planet? How was anyone supposed to work with this?

"You're our only lead," I said, narrowing my gaze on her. I would make her talk. "What did he say on the phone?"

Amelia ran a hand through her honey-brunette hair, thinking harder. "He… he said he thought something was chasing him. But I didn't… he's been acting so weird lately."

" _Weird how_?" The screen door banged shut, my two brothers having just barged into Amelia's house. Their eyes were on me—Sam's hurt and worried, Dean's sharp and fuming. They could feel however the hell they wanted; I turned back towards Amelia.

Amelia stared at them in confusion. "Who are you?"

Sam stepped forward, flashing a badge. "Federal agents, ma'am. We're partners with this agent here." I'm sure he indicated to me. It's not like he could use my name; he didn't know which one I had fed Amelia.

She squinted at the badge before looking at the three of us. "I don't know what you want me to say. You… you wouldn't believe me if I told you everything."

"Try us," Dean demanded before I could.

Amelia led us into the sitting room, indicating that we could share the couch; she took the chair opposite as we sat. "A couple of years ago, Adam's brother died. Carter was brutally killed just like…" Amelia winced. "Just like Adam was." She gulped. "Adam swore there was some kind of deal with the devil that Carter had been involved in. Adam was serious about it; he had chronic nightmares about it."

We threw each other knowing looks.

"Did you believe him?" Sam asked gently.

She shook her head, looking down at her lap with big, sad eyes. "No, not at first. But… last night, he called me and said a Hellhound was after him too. And he died the same way Carter did. I…" Her eyes flicked between us. "I can't believe that this was an entire coincidence."

"What did he say in the phone call?" I asked.

"He… He said that a Hellhound had been stalking him all day, and he knew his time was coming." She blinked at me. "He said he wanted to make amends."

"Make amends?" Dean asked for clarification, hands folded in front of him.

Amelia blew out a shaky breath. "He's been acting really different these past few days. Adam has always been really sweet and loving, but this week, he has been harsh and cruel and not at all like himself."

"Has Adam been really successful in anything for the past ten years?" I asked bluntly. "Work? Scoring the ladies? Anything?"

She gave me a weird look and shook her head. "No. Carter was the lucky one. Carter was practically the CEO of a finance firm when he died. Adam was just… Adam. Happy. Normal."

"And Carter made the Hellhound deal?" Dean pressed.

Amelia looked confused about her sad, little life. "Adam believed that."

"Did Adam ever mention anything about making a deal himself?" Sam prompted.

"No. Just that the Hellhound was after him yesterday."

I leaned forwards and squinted at her. "Did Adam's penis seem abnormally large to you?"

"OK, we're done here," Dean cut in, gripping me by my upper arm and hauling me to my feet. Sam followed suit as Amelia watched me with a flabbergasted, insulted expression.

"Thank you for your time," Sam said as Dean hauled me out of there. "We'll call if we find anything."

Amelia stood with her gaping mouth, watching us go like a fish out of water.

As soon as we were outside, Dean bit into me. "What the hell is with you, Katelyn?!"

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, we're onto the full names now?"

Dean threw his hands up and moved away from me. _Drama queen._

Sam moved closer for his attempt at an intervention. "You're not acting like yourself. We're worried about you."

I crossed my arms defensively. "Maybe I'm just growing up a little. You two are always so whiny about everything. I'm just trying to get work done."

Dean pointed a finger at me. "You are not Kate."

I raised a challenging eyebrow. "Color me insulted." I turned on my heel and marched towards my stolen car. I drove back towards the motel, and those guys rode my ass in the Impala the entire trip. It's not like they needed to trail me so damn closely; they could always just track my phone like I'm sure they did to find me at Amelia's.

With an eye roll, I pulled into the motel parking lot and headed straight for our room.

"We are not done with this conversation, Kate!" Dean yelled, stomping in after me. Sam hurried after us.

"Well, we had a late night, I'm tired, I'm hungry, and I'm feeling _bitchy_ because you two are being annoying as _hell_!" I pointed a finger at each of them. "So I'm gonna order a pizza, and you two are going to leave me the hell alone. Got it?"

As I turned for the phone book, Dean took a step towards me. Sam caught his arm and shook his head. _Whatever._ I dialed up the first pizza place I saw in the Yellow Pages while my brothers exchanged loaded, bitchy looks.

The pizza guy got there pronto, and the brothers hungrily swooped while I paid the guy off.

"There's only one pizza," Dean observed. He was always so freaking smart.

"Imagine that," I said, bringing my pizza to my bed and digging in in front of the TV.

"Dean, let's go get something to eat, alright?" Sam coaxed his whiny brother out of the motel.

They came home later, and we watched the TV in silence until we went to sleep.

* * *

At six the next morning, I was tying my boots on.

"What are you doing?" Sam grumbled, squinting at me from the couch. Dean snored on.

"I'm going to go interview that dead chick's boyfriend." I grabbed my leather jacket.

Sam sat up with a look of confusion. "Dean and I already did that a few days ago."

"Well, we've got a dead chick and two dead guys, and we've got nothing to connect their deaths other than the fact that they're all weird as hell. You'll have to excuse me for trying to scoop up some leads that you two idiots probably missed," I said bluntly. I pulled on my jacket.

"It's six in the morning, Kate," Sam pointed out. _Wow_. _He was supposed to be the smart one._

I gave him a patronizing smile and headed for the door.

"He's going to be asleep!" Sam called, trying to stop me. I heard Dean's snoring stutter and him grumble as he rejoined the living.

"Then I'll wake him up!" I called back and opened the door. _Oh shit. Keys._ I moved away from the door and went for the Impala keys on the counter.

"Kate!" Sam protested, but I ignored him.

"No way in hell you takin' my baby," Dean ground out harshly as he pushed himself out of bed.

"Watch me." I headed for the door again, keys in hand.

Dean latched onto my arm and glared. "In case you forgot, you're still on my bad side when it comes to my car, Katelyn."

"Fine." I dropped the keys at his feet. "I'll jack another car." I jerked away from him and moved out the door.

The guys scrambled to throw on clothes behind me, and I chose a random Ford. I had just jimmied open the locked door and opened it when a shuffle of boots indicated another oncoming round of obnoxious sibling talks.

I ignored them and moved into the driver's seat. Or, at least I tried. With a prick at my neck, I felt my world fumble to black before I could begin the hot-wiring.


	4. Chapter 3: I'm Not a Demon Who Knew?

_**Thank you for your reviews! They are greatly appreciated. :)**_

 _ **Chapter 3: I'm Not a Demon; Who Knew?**_

I was shocked awake by a bucket of cold water. I gasped and spluttered, blinking around in a dark room.

"Oh, look. Sleeping beauty's awake." Dean dropped the metal bucket on the concrete floor with a strong, resounding clang. He didn't flinch at all, probably because that bastard didn't have drugs swirling through his freaking brain.

God, my head was _aching_. I went to move my arms and found myself tugging against restraints. Those idiots had roped me to a desk chair, a satanic star drawn on the floor below me. Oh, _please_.

" _Dean_ ," Sam warned, giving his brother a look. He stood to the side, arms crossed tight across his chest.

Dean shook his head, pointing at me. "That thing is not our sister."

I gave him a scathing look. "Well, looks like your fucking holy water didn't do shit. So I must not be a demon, huh?" I looked around the room. "Where's the silver blade? Better check if I'm a Shapeshifter."

Dean glared at me, prompting Sam to step into my line of view. He carefully pressed a silver blade to my skin where— _surprise!_ —nothing happened.

I leaned forward against the ropes and whispered, "Maybe you could get the garlic next? I might be a vampire."

Sam turned away, pulling the fuming Dean with him. I smirked at their retreating forms. _God, those two were such idiots._

They spoke in hushed tones so I couldn't hear them. I didn't give a damn; they could bitch at each other all they wanted as long as I didn't have to suffer through it. I looked around the room, noticing that we must be in the basement of some abandoned building. A workshop, maybe, judging by the amount of tools scattered around. Reminded me of Bobby's.

The two assholes walked back to me, Sam leading the way because he thought he was the more compassionate of the two. ( _Yes, because what I wanted was compassion and definitely not to be let out of those goddamn ropes._ )

"Look, Kate," Sam said, "there is something seriously wrong here. You might be our Kate, but…" He scrambled for the diplomatic words, always the politician. "Have you seen any hex bags lately? Weird, voodoo curses or something?"

I tilted my head. "You know, I did notice a little hex bag in my Barbie backpack earlier, but I didn't really think anything of it until you pointed it out. Thanks, Samantha; I'm saved." I grinned.

"Listen here, douchebag!" Dean shot forward with an angry pointer finger and a frustrated expression. "You are gonna sit there, shut up, and answer any questions that we have for you without this goddamn attitude!"

I frowned. "How can I shut up and answer your questions?"

Dean's hand twitched.

"What happened the day before yesterday?" Sam asked, crossing his arms again.

I rolled my eyes again and groaned. "God, I've told you twenty times already. I was with you bitches the whole day."

Sam nodded, waving his hand in prompting. "Right, but you left to go talk to that eyewitness. We tried to find whatever contact information you had for her, but you didn't leave any clues."

I stared at the cement ceiling before directing my attention to Samantha. "If I tell you— _again_ —what I did on Wednesday, will you untie your dear old sister?"

"Absolutely." Dean gave me the falsest smile.

With a sigh, I launched into my story.

 _Dean was in a local pub, trying to figure out anything about the man who had a comet smash him into the earth last week. Nobody knew, but everybody agreed it was an insane freak accident. (Well, anybody without a brain agreed that.)_

 _Sam was at the local police station, trying to find out if there had been any other weird freak accidents, aside from the girl who had choked on spiders and Comet Boy. There hadn't—_

"OK, we know what we were doing," Dean interrupted, trying to rush me along. "We want to know what the hell _you_ were doing."

 _Therefore, because my obnoxious brothers were otherwise occupied, I volunteered to go check out a supposed witness for the meteor's fatal blow. The witness was some elderly lady named Carrie White. I hitchhiked—_

"You never said you hitchhiked there," Sam interrupted.

"Yeah, we thought you just hotwired a car or got a cab or something," Dean said.

"Does it look like there are any taxis patrolling Farnorth, Ohio?" I asked sarcastically. "The car I went to jack ended up having a human being in the driver's seat, so I had to act like I needed directions to visit my dear old grandma."

Dean flopped his hand. "Okay, okay, you hitchhiked to Grandma's. What next?"

 _The guy dropped me off at the lady's house; he knew her and, therefore, knew where she lived. He went out back to help with something in her shed. I walked up to the front porch, knocked on the door, and a crazy old woman answered._

" _Did you witness Clark Baker being pounded into the ground by a freaking meteor?" I asked._

" _Oh yes, yes I did! It was brutal!" she said. "I saw it, and it was crazy, and blah, blah, blah."_

 _I asked if she knew anything else about Clark Baker._

 _She said, "He was a recluse."_

 _I asked if he was doing anything weird when he got smashed by the hurling ball of fire._

 _She said that he was running down the street, screaming about the meteor._

 _I said that was understandable. Did she watch it hurtle towards him?_

" _Yes," she answered. But there was nothing she could do._

 _I asked how far away she was from him. She had me stand and steered me across the living room. She went to the other side and said, "About that far."_

 _I went to text Dean to come pick me up, but the old lady offered for the guy to give me a ride home. The guy came back to his truck. I thanked the lady. The lady said I had pretty hair. I said thank you. The guy took me home. I had a headache when we got back, and I went to sleep earlier than usual._

 _The end._

My two douchebag brothers stood there, stoically analyzing nothing.

After another moment, Dean threw up his hand and admitted, "I've got nothing."

"Surprise." I nodded towards the ropes. "Undo these."

Sam shook his head. "No, there has to be something else. Something weird is happening with you, Kate."

I leaned forwards and carefully asked, "Sammy, have you ever heard of something called… PMS?"

And with that, Dean marched away and up the cement stairs, grumbling about calling the police station for that witness's address.

I stretched my back against the unforgiving chair. "I have to pee."

Sam glanced at me with his concerned look before looking back to the stairs.

I huffed and repeated louder, " _I have to pee_."

With a huff of his own, Sam moved towards me and began untying the ropes. "No flipping out, Kate. We're just trying to help you. We… You know we care about you." He looked to me for confirmation that his words reached me.

I stood, rubbing my wrists with a distrusting expression. "Funny way of showing it."

With a hand on my back, Sam steered me to the corner of the basement where a disgusting, one-person bathroom was tucked away.

I jumped in, slammed the door on him, and looked around. The only window was a sliver near the ceiling; there was no way I was getting out that way. Plan B: I scoured the area for anything I could use as a weapon. Disgusting, moldy tile—no. Rusty nail on the floor—pocketed for later. Grimy toilet—no. Sink—no. Piping—possibly. I crouched in front of the sink, pulling and twisting the metal. It was barely giving.

"Hey, you OK?" Sam's concern filtered through the crappy wooden door. He must have heard the squeaking metal.

Oh well, no time for subtlety then. I stood and began stomping at the piping, feeling the rusty pipes screech and give.

"Kate!" Sam twisted the locked door handle frantically as I broke the sink apart.

Sam began kicking the door down, and I knew I wouldn't be able to wield the piping as a weapon before he made it in. Instead, I positioned myself behind the door and braced myself.

The door was kicked open, and as soon as it swung towards me, I kicked it right back. It rebounded and smashed Sam right in the nose. He stumbled for a stunned moment to clutch his nose, which I took as an opportunity to smash his head against the sink. His large form slumped unconscious onto the tile.

No way Dean didn't hear that. I kicked the sink piping in again, and it gave. The water wasn't operational in this abandoned crap hole, so it came off without a drop.

Carefully, I stepped over Sam and inched out of the bathroom with my pipe at the ready. I couldn't hear talking on the phone above us, and the basement was oddly quiet.

If I was Dean… I whirled around just in time to see him jump towards me with the butt of his gun. I smacked his arm away with the rusty pipe and stumbled backwards. He froze, not pointing the gun at me. ( _Damn. I should have grabbed Sam's_.) His eyes were trained on me, an animal looking for an opening to grab its prey.

"Sam needs you," I said, nodding towards the long legs sticking out of the bathroom. "Let me go, and you can go take care of him."

Dean gave a minute shake of his head. "I'm not letting you out of here, Katie."

 _UGH_! This was beyond stubborn—this was idiotic. "Why can't you two bastards just leave me alone?!" I wanted to throw my pipe at his stupid face and bolt. I gripped the pipe tighter, feeling the rust scrape my skin.

His expression was heartbreaking; it really was. Problem was, it didn't break my heart. I felt nothing but the need to escape this overbearing dickwad.

"You didn't meet with Carrie White, Katie," Dean said, his tone stupidly pleading. "Carrie is an old woman—she had a heart attack when she saw Clark get hit by a meteor. She's been in the hospital all week."

He took a hesitant step towards me, his hands up, and his expression pleading. "Please, Kate. I don't know who you met with, but they hurt you. I just want to help."

I gripped the pipe even tighter, seeing his feet inch closer. Through my teeth, I bit out, "I don't want your help. You've always tried to fix me and fix Sam. Ever since Mom died! But you're not my dad! My father is dead! You're nothing but a deadbeat brother, and I just want you to _leave me the hell alone_!" I threw the pipe at his face, and he was forced to shield himself. I took that as an opportunity to bolt, sprinting up the stairs, two at a time.

"KATE!"

Dean was right behind me, but I knew he wouldn't use his gun on his little sister. His caring was his weakness.

I bolted out of the warehouse and took off in the direction of the woods. Dean was charging after me, shouting my name. I did what Dad trained us to do—zigzag through the trees. Eventually, when we got far enough, that bastard would lose me. Maybe then he would stop being a freaking constant shadow.

I made it far enough into the woods that Dean had fallen just far enough behind—I dove into some bushes. Still shouting my name, Dean roared past me, pushing the foliage out of the way as he went. He didn't see me, and he whirled in a circle.

"KATE!" He waited, looking everywhere frantically. ( _Ha. As if that bastard was getting a response_.)

" _Son of a bitch!_ " He tore off again, moving in the general direction that I had been heading.

After a few silent minutes, I realized he was totally gone. I smiled to myself and stood. My head swam, and I stumbled towards the closest tree.

I had been running… from Dean. My big brother who cared about me and Sam more than anything—his own person included. He knew something was happening to me. He was trying to help. He loved me, and I… pushed him away…?

I stumbled towards where he had been running. "Dean?" My head was so dizzy. I caught my boot on a root and tripped. I righted myself, looking around at the endless forest around me.

"Dean?!" It was so quiet everywhere. Where did my brother go?

He was my only family! Besides Sam, and I… _Oh, God_. I killed Sam. I killed Sam! A hysterical sob bubbled up my throat and out of my lips.

"Sam!" I screeched, falling towards my knees. _No, no, no, no, no_. Why had I done that? Because I wanted some goddamn space? I had hurt my brother. I had killed my _brother_.

I sobbed, blubbering my brothers' names. Dean was going to kill me. What kind of a sister betrayed their family so treacherously? I deserved to die. Dean was going to make sure I did.

"Kate!" Dean appeared in front of me, jogging through the forest to reach me. _He was going to kill me_.

"No, please," I begged, sobbing still. I didn't want to die. "I didn't mean to! I don't know why I killed him! I didn't want to!" Dean was right in front of me, and I was so afraid. I scrambled onto my hands and knees, trying to crawl away from his wrath.

His large arms wrapped around me, picking me up from the forest floor.

I struggled against him with frantic cries. "Please, I'm so sorry! I hate myself too! _Please_!"

He held me tighter against his chest, sitting on the ground. "Shh, Katie, it's OK. It's OK. You're OK."

"Noooooo," I sobbed, clutching his shirt like I did when I was five and cried from a nightmare. This was a nightmare. This was worse than a nightmare. I had killed my brother.

"Sam's fine, Katie," Dean assured me, holding me close. "You didn't do anything."

I shook my head. He was lying; I knew he was.

"Come on," he said close to my ear. "We'll go back and check on him. He's fine."

I shook my head again but located my feet when Dean helped me stand. With his arm still secured around me, I walked back towards the warehouse.

Maybe this was where Dean was going to kill me. Maybe he wanted me to see what I had done up close before he killed me the same way I had killed our brother. Part of me wished he would.

We neared the cement building, and I wanted to vomit. I couldn't face this. "Please, just kill me. I can't see this. Please, I'm so sorry—"

"Kate!"

Dean and I looked up to see Sam running towards us, a bloodied cut drying on his forehead. One of his nostrils had leaked a dried a dark crimson stream. But he was fine.

I collapsed to my knees, sobbing. "Oh God. Oh God, you're OK! I'm so sorry, Sammy. I'm so sorry!" Dean was kneeling next to me, and arm still around me.

Sam knelt in front of me with overly concerned eyes. "Kate, it's OK. We're all OK." His large hand cupped my cheek and slid into my hair.

His concern was too much—the sobs erupted out of me again. I had tried to murder this gentle, generous man. He was my own flesh and blood, and I sought to hurt him? Why didn't they kill me yet?

"No one is going to kill you, Katie," Dean muttered next to me. "We know you weren't in control back there."

"It's OK; I'm fine," Sam promised.

I let out a soft wail and threw my arms around my injured brother. He held me close. I noticed Dean still didn't remove his hand from my back.

"Let's head back to the motel, OK?" Sam prompted, pulling me back a bit to look at me.

Feeling entirely drained, I simply nodded.


	5. Chapter 4: Cracked

_**Chapter 4: Cracked**_

When we got back to the motel, I fell asleep for a few hours. Unfortunately, the entire sleep was plagued by images of me murdering both of my brothers again and again. When I woke, I couldn't figure out why had acted that way in the first place.

"You're up," Sam said, coming and sitting on the bed beside mine. I noticed his nose was a bit swollen but no longer bleeding; his forehead sported a piece of gauze.

"I'm sorry," I blurted with a wave to his forehead. It felt like all I could ever say to him anymore.

He waved off the words. "Kate, we've been trying to figure out what's causing this, and we need your input."

"OK." I tucked my knees up to my chest.

Dean came and sat on the end of my bed. "Jane died because she had so many freaking spiders in her throat. Clark was an astronomy nerd, and he got pelted by a flaming space rock."

I gave a nod. "It's weird."

"And Adam made a deal with a crossroads demon," Sam added.

"And I've been going bat-shit these past few days," I said.

"So what do they all got in common?" Dean asked.

That stumped all of us.

"Well, let's just analyze Kate's behavior and go from there," Sam suggested.

"She visited some random crazy lady," Dean began.

"Tried pushing us away for a few days," Sam said.

"And tried to murder my brothers," I finished softly. Guilt ate at my organs.

Sam shook his head. "That had do with pushing us away, I think. No, next you freaked out. Like, wanted to die because—"

"Because it was my worst nightmare," I clarified with solemn urgency.

Dean snapped and pointed. "Nerd guy. He studies space and crap all day—his worst nightmare is a freaking meteor flinging itself down just to kill him."

"And Jane's boyfriend said something about her being afraid of spiders," I added.

"And after Adam's brother was killed by a Hellhound," Sam surmised, "his worst nightmare—"

"Was to be killed by a Hellhound himself," Dean finished.

We sat in silence, digesting this.

"Jake said that Jane had been acting weird before she died, and Adam tried pushing Amelia away before he faced his worst nightmare," Sam said before focusing on me. "Kate, you tried pushing us away before yours came."

"Nerd boy didn't have any friends to bitch at, so his meteor came right for him," Dean guessed. Sam and I gave him the Disapproving Look. He became defensive. "What?"

"It's gotta be some kind of curse, right?" Sam posed, looking to us for confirmation. "What else could cause this? That lady that you visited the other day— _she's_ gotta be the witch."

Dean gave a nod of agreement while I digested all of this.

"Wait, but I didn't die. Why didn't I die?" I prompted. "The other three faced their worst nightmares, and then they died."

"Well…" Sam looked uncomfortable. "With Adam, he hallucinated his worst nightmare for twenty-four hours before it finally killed him. It's possible that the same happened with Jane and Clark."

I stared at him with large eyes as we silently confirmed his thinking. It's not over. I was a ticking time bomb and I only had… I checked Sam's watch, "Eighteen hours left." And that's if our guestimations were accurate.

"No." Dean stood up and pointed his finger at no one in particular. "No. We're going to stop this. Twenty hours is plenty of time to gank whatever the hell crawled up Kate's ass."

I swallowed, slightly comforted by his optimism. But I also knew that as we tried, there was the fair chance that we wouldn't succeed. And, as we tried, I would be forced to face my worst nightmare.

"So," Dean clapped his hands, "let's find whoever's causing this and kill the bitch."

* * *

It was a rare occasion that I got to sit shotgun. I guess the day you died classified as a rare occasion.

"Does any of this look familiar to you?" Dean prompted again. I withheld my sigh and looked at the random clumps of trees. Occasionally, a house would pop up, the boys would look hopefully to me, and I would shake my head.

"Do you remember the direction that lady's house was in? The street? Anything?"

"I don't know, Dean," I grumbled, rubbing my head with a fist. "That whole car ride was murky; the guy kept talking to me about random stuff."

Sam leaned forward. "He has to be in on it. He knew where to take you, and he distracted you to not notice where he was heading. He drove you home so that no one would know where she was located."

I let out a sigh against the window, staring out at the unfamiliar roads.

"Let's head to some of the local shops," Dean suggested. "It's a small town; somebody's gotta know where this witchy bitch lives."

I flicked my eyes to the road just in time to see a huge semi-truck barreling towards us. " _Dean_!" I jerked the wheel, sending us flying off the road and onto a hilly patch of grass. We bounced in the car, lurching across the grass as Dean fought to regain control of the Impala. With a stomp of the brake, we jerked into our seatbelts and stopped.

"Son of a—"

"Jesus Christ," I breathed.

We all sat there, controlling our breathing after that adrenaline attack.

"What the hell was that?!" Dean demanded, turning towards me.

 _Me_?! "You need to watch the damn road!"

"I was!"

" _Really_?" I challenged. "Because that whole almost-crushed-by-a-semi experience begs to differ!"

Dean squinted at me, pursing his lips, and formed a defensive retort on his lips, but Sam jumped in. "Kate, there was no semi."

I gave him a look. "Maybe you can't see from back there, Sam, but there was a giant asshole of a semi heading straight for us."

" _There was no semi_." Dean narrowed his eyes on me. "I had my eyes on the road the whole time."

That froze my defense. I glanced to Sam—he clearly agreed with his brother. Which… which meant that I had… "Oh."

Sam's hand came to my shoulder. "It's OK, Kate. Thanks for looking out for us."

I was too embarrassed to respond to that. I turned in my seat and looked straight ahead. I could feel the looks being exchanged around this car; I didn't need to see them too.

Dean restarted the car and navigated us back onto the road, heading back the way we had come.

When we pulled back up to the motel, I had a protest ready. "Dean, we—"

"Sam's gonna stay with you for a little bit," Dean cut me off with his this-is-the-way-it's-gonna-be attitude. "We need you guys to research these murders more. Try to find who they knew that would do this."

"And you?" I prompted.

He grinned, but it was an act. For me. "I'm gonna go check out the local places and see what intel I can find."

I nodded and turned away. Yeah. I was a liability now. And the hallucinations would only get worse, so…

I got out of the car, Sam right behind me.

"Sam."

Sam leaned back into the car.

"Watch out for her, Sammy," Dean ordered. Sam gave him a nod while I gave a grateful eye roll. "I'll be back in an hour or two."

The Impala sped away, leaving Sam and I on the blacktop to watch.

Sam putting a comforting arm around me. "Come on; let's go see what we can find."

Walking back to our room was awkward when we leaned into each other, but I was too comforted to pull an inch away.


	6. Chapter 5: Goin' Off the Rails

_**Chapter 5: Goin' Off the Rails**_

An hour later, we were still no closer to finding any answers. We had looked for any connections between Jane, Adam, and Clark, but nothing turned up. Sam had called Amelia and Jake to see if they knew anything, but there was nothing that connected the three. They led separate lives.

"They didn't even go to the same church?" I pressed my brother, even though I knew that if there was a connection, he would have shared it.

Sam gave a shake of his head. "Clark wasn't religious." He turned back to his laptop.

I pressed my lips together and stared at the table, mulling over any characteristics that the three had. I looked back up, and began, "What ab—"

Sam's face was covered in blood. A gaping gash split the side of his face in two, and blood flowed freely. It dripped off his chin, slithered down his neck, and soaked into the collar of his blue, plaid shirt. His mouth gaped at me; his eyes showed the slow dimming of death.

I stumbled back, my question forgotten.

"What?" Sam asked, concern in his tone. His gaping mouth hadn't moved.

" _Sam_ ," I choked out, frozen between falling in shock and moving towards him to help. (As if I could help what was left of his flesh.)

"Kate, what's wrong?" Sam's body stood, and he slowly moved towards me. His face remained a torn mess of imminent death.

I closed my eyes, and fell onto the edge of the bed. "It's not real," I whispered to myself. Sam was fine. My brother was not dying. He was fine.

"Hey, hey, it's OK," he murmured, gathering me into his arms. "What are you seeing?"

I grabbed onto his shirt, and responded, "You're dying. Your face is split open."

He paused. "Katie, I'm fine."

"I know," I gasped.

"Here." He gently held my hand and brought it up to his face, and I winced at the feeling of… skin. Sam's stubble, unbroken skin. I tentatively placed two hands on his face, and felt nothing but the small bandage I had left on his forehead. Slowly, I opened my eyes and saw—I breathed out a breath of relief. It was only Sam. Good, concerned, alive Sam.

"You OK?" he prompted, his brow furrowed under my fingers.

I nodded, pulling my hands away.

"Do you… want to take a nap or something?" he asked. "Take a break from reality for a minute?"

I shook my head and stood. "No, I'm fine now. Sorry." As I raised my finger to bite my thumbnail, I noticed my hands were slightly shaking.

Sam stood and gave me one of his classic, strong hugs. I sighed and held him back. From our position by the beds, I could see the nightstand's clock: 6PM. 12 hours left. I closed my eyes against the stupid, foreboding red numbers.

Sam's phone rang, and he pulled away, going back to the table. "Dean." There was no way Dean missed the relief and worry slathering Sam's voice.

"No, no, she's fine," Sam assured him. His eyes flickered up to me before he looked back at nothing in particular. "What'd you find?"

I moved away, looking out the window for any sign of the Impala. _No Dean_. In fact, the lot was still vacant except for—

 _Except for that douchebag that I hitched a ride from_.

I was out the door, sprinting towards him before Sam even started shouting my name.

" _Hey_!"

That asshole— _what was his name? Carl? Bob? Something forgettable_ —saw me barreling towards him and became panicked. He scrambled for his keys, dropping the laundry detergent on the pavement. He got the key into the car's door just in time for me to tackle him to the blacktop.

I reeled my fist back and punched him in the face—hard. "What the hell did you do to me, Carl?!"

He looked around, disoriented from this entire attack. "Who the hell is Carl?" His eyes focused on me, and he spat blood onto my face.

I was pissed. I pulled my fist back again and smashed his nose. He howled in pain, and I pulled my arm back again—only to be restrained by a larger, stronger pair of hands.

"Kate, stop!" Sam demanded, holding my arm back. He used the arm to pull me off of the douchebag and onto my feet.

I shrugged Sam off and pointed at the dark-haired jerk. "This dick is the guy I got a ride from! He knows that witch!"

Sam looked to me and back to the guy. He stomped a boot onto the guy's abdomen, knocking the wind out of him while pinning him to the ground. "You a witch, too?"

The Impala screeched into the parking lot, Dean fuming from the driver's seat.

"No!" The guy moved to push Sam's boot off of him; Sam pressed his boot down harder, making him groan in pain.

"You're going to tell us where that woman is and how the hell we break this curse." Sam didn't leave his words open for interpretation.

"I can't!" The guy ground out. He tried moving Sam's boot again, prompting a harder press and another labored groan.

"I don't think you understand." Dean's voice came up from behind us as he marched forwards. _God, he looked like he was on a murder spree. Maybe he was about to be._ "You tell us what we want to know, and we consider not killing you."

"That's not that strong of an incentive!" the jackwad protested.

"It's your best option," I countered with a glare. Sam's boot pressed harder.

Coughing in pain, the guy admitted, "Alright, alright! I'll give you the address!"

Sam's boot moved off of him, and each brother swooped to grab an arm.

"Not good enough," Dean said, his grip tight on the man's arm. "You're taking us there."

The guy swallowed and began protesting.

Dean's gun appeared and pointed at the guy's head. "It wasn't a request." Sam's own gun followed suit.

The dick's protests died as Sam and Dean hauled him towards the back of the Impala. Sam crawled into the back first, a gun on the guy. The jackwad bent to go into the back as well.

He grabbed Dean's gun. In a blur of a movement, that man pointed the gun at Dean and shot him in the abdomen—one, twice. The shots echoed through my ears, haunting and final. Dean stumbled, fell to one knee, and collapsed on the pavement.

"Dean!" I bolted forwards, reaching him in a flat second. Dean laid before me, staring up at the sky and convulsing with inexpressible coughs. Blood soaked his white t-shirt, spreading across the material greedily. Blood bubbled out of his mouth, dripping down his cheek.

"Dean!" I sobbed, clutching at him. No. We hadn't come this far just for my big brother to die on us. Dean wasn't supposed to die like this. He was supposed to go down in a fiery explosion, Sam and I at his sides. He wasn't supposed to breathe his last breaths on the dirty blacktop of some crappy motel's parking lot.

"Kate!"

I ignored Sam. How could he be calling my name right now? _Dean_ was _dying_.

Dean's gasping breaths became shallow, and his eyes saw nothing in particular.

" _Kate_!"

Dean's breaths stopped altogether. _No. No. No, no, no—_ "Dean!" I screamed. "No!"

Arms gathered around my middle, hauling me away from my brother's body.

"No!" I screamed, fighting them. _Don't make me leave Dean in his last seconds. I would never get him alive again; I would never get him back._ I pushed away from the unrelenting arms as they hauled me away. " _Please_! I have to be with him!"

"Kate!"

That froze me. Dean?

With a sob, I turned a bit in the arms, struggling to see—Dean. Dean was holding me, his expression the exact image of anxiety. I looked back to where his body was—wasn't. There was nothing there. Sam held the guy down with the pointed gun, his worried eyes trained on me. The douchebag hadn't moved, hadn't grabbed a gun, and hadn't killed my brother; he just watched me with an expectant expression.

I turned in Dean's arms and threw my own around him. I clutched him, gasping with relief that he was totally, completely fine. He held me back, his hands warm and secure at the back of my head and the middle of my back.

"I'm fine, Katie," he murmured quietly. "See? It's OK. It wasn't real." He kissed the top of my head and held me close.

After a minute, I peeled myself off of Dean and scrubbed at my tears.

"You OK?" he asked, eyes roaming my face.

I nodded, stepping back.

Dean gave a nod of his own and escorted me to the passenger seat. He slid into the driver's side and started the engine.

"You OK?" Sam asked me, not moving from his at-the-ready position.

I kept my eyes straight and gave a nod.

"Alright, douchebag," Dean declared, locking eyes with the guy in the back, "lead us to your bitch."


	7. Chapter 6: Find the Witch

_**Chapter 6: Find the Witch**_

"Turn here," the annoyed drawl ordered. He sounded way too relaxed for somebody who just got the snot beat out of them.

Dean jerked the car, rolling up onto the rough gravel road. The guy wasn't lying; the white Victorian house and surrounding forest all looked familiar. Dean gave me a look, wanting confirmation on the location. I gave a nod. We got out of the car.

As I slammed the door, a smudge of black among the trees caught my eye. I froze and focused in on it. And it looked… it looked like a Hellhound.

"You OK?" Sam asked me as he handed me an iron pipe; he had an iron crowbar himself. Dean was handcuffing the other guy with iron cuffs, gun trained on him.

"That thing that chased you out of the forest the other night," I asked, "did it have black fur? Monstrously tall?"

"Yeah…" His overly concerned eyes turned on. "Why?"

"Because I can see it," I said, directing my gaze towards the edge of trees.

Sam followed my line of sight. His hand was instantly on my arm. _So he saw it too_.

A sneer came from the raven-haired guy.

Dean prodded him with the muzzle of his gun. "Somethin' tickling you, bozo?"

The guy's uncaring eyes focused on me before nodding towards the dark monster. "It's found you—Estelle's mutt. It brings back the bodies." He shook his head apathetically. "You've only got hours left." Sam's hand tightened on my arm.

The butt of Dean's gun slammed down on the guy, and he fell to the gravel in a heap.

"What?" Dean defended at my and Sam's stares. "It's not like we need this douche."

"Kevin?" An older woman's voice called out from the porch. "Is that you-?" The woman from my memories stepped out onto the porch but abruptly froze at the sight of us.

I glanced down at the unconscious jerk. _Kevin. That was it. I knew it was something generic_.

Estelle stumbled backwards, reaching for her door knob.

"Don't move!" Sam pointed his gun at her.

She looked scathingly down at us as we slowly encroached. "You can't shoot me with a gun, you naïve boy."

"I'd be willing to bet that witch-killing bullets might," Dean countered.

Her grey eyes darted between us. "You're lying." She was wrong; paranoid Sam always had everything handy. And, by the panic tumbling underneath her skin—Estelle believed us.

Sam gave her a dark smirk. "Try me." She gulped.

"What the hell did you do to me?" I demanded, stepping up to her. Dean's hand rested on my arm—warning me of the danger.

Her eyes narrowed on me. "Nothing. Bad things just happen to those who can't keep their noses out of other people's business."

I straightened, casting my full glare on her. "Fix. It. _Now_."

"I don't know the counter spell," she said simply. She was unapologetic, just like her bitch-boy on the gravel. "Nothing I can do."

"Well, maybe if we kill the bitch that cast it, it'll stop the damn thing!" Dean hypothesized bitingly.

"Then killing us would do nothing!"

We whirled around to see the handcuffed Kevin struggle to his feet and stumble towards us. " _We_ didn't cast this hex, idiots!"

"Then who the hell did?" Sam demanded.

" _None of your business_ ," Estelle hissed.

"It's her sister," Kevin answered instead.

"And where can we find her?" Dean offered a false smile.

She shrugged, looking like she couldn't be bothered with these questions. "She comes and goes as she pleases. She may not be back for days."

I grabbed her button-up shirt and ground out, "We don't have days!"

She laughed. "Oh, that's obvious, darling! Grune—" Her eyes flicked to the beast at the edge of the trees "—has been stalking you, just waiting for you to drop any minute now. He comes back to us once the subject has died—a little confirmation that our work is done." She looked at me knowingly and cackled.

Before I could restrain myself, I brought the iron pipe up and smashed it across her temple, knocking her out cold.

"Kate!" Sam protested. Dean agreed with my actions, his gun trained on Kevin again.

I turned on my heel, marching right towards Kevin. Sam reached out and grabbed me before I could make it to the stumbling-backwards bastard.

"Kate, we need him," Sam pleaded, using his big hazel eyes on me. "He's the only shot we have to break this curse."

I ran a hand through my hair. "Fine."

Dean waited patiently, gun trained on Kevin. But I didn't miss the way his jaw twitched.

Sam walked up to Kevin, all business. "Kevin, how do we break this curse?"

"Why should I tell you?" Kevin's eyes and tone turned malicious. "You're hunters."

Dean offered him a yeah-he's-right frown—and then shot him in the kneecap. Kevin went down, falling onto his handcuffed hands with a burst of fiery curses.

" _Dean_!" Sam glared at our brother but made no move to help Kevin.

With a hatred burning in his eyes, Kevin glared at us and began to spit out a string of spells.

Dean cocked his gun and pushed the muzzle towards him. "You wanna go again?"

Kevin stopped his chant and simply glowered.

"'Thought you said you weren't a witch." I narrowed my eyes on him.

He gave me a false smirk. "I lied."

"Kevin," Sam pleaded again, "please. We just want to save our sister. Help us."

"You'll just kill me, no matter what I do!" he shot back through gritted teeth. "There's no benefit to helping you assholes."

Dean shoved the gun onto Kevin's other leg. "You know, Kev, you've got _two_ kneecaps. It'd be a shame to have to waste them both."

Kevin's eyes locked on the gun, his breathing labored. He was considering.

I crouched down; his eyes flickered up to me. "Look, if you tell us, we'll let you go." I glanced to Dean's what-the-hell expression before turning back to Kevin. "And, my brother won't kill you."

Kevin tilted his chin upwards. "How do I know you're not lying?"

Dean squinted down at him. "Your choices are lookin' pretty slim here, pal."

After a moment, Kevin relaxed a bit. "Look, I'm just a student. I don't know all the witch mumbo-jumbo yet. But, I do know that the witch who casts the curse can cancel it."

"And you can't?" I asked critically. What kind of a witch hadn't learned about curses? Especially ones that were party to casting them?

"I'm just a student!"

"Who cast the curse?" Sam inquired.

"Estelle's sister." Kevin jutted his chin towards Estelle's form on the porch. "Name's Hazel."

"Where the hell is she?" I demanded.

He shook his head. "Somewhere out in the woods, I swear. She goes on witchy expeditions for days."

"How long has she been gone for?" Sam pressed.

Kevin fumbled for words, thinking. "Maybe two… ish… days? She came back the night you left," he looked to me, "and cast the curse. She's stronger than Estelle lately, and I've barely started learning, so…"

"Where does she go?" I asked at the same time Sam asked "How can we find her?"

Kevin looked lost. "Beats me. She just comes back when she wants to."

I rolled my eyes. "Really helpful, Kevin. Thanks." I pulled out of my crouch, heading back towards the house. Sam followed behind.

Dean stayed down. "If you're lying, Kev, or if my sister dies anyways because you're too dumb of a witch to help her—you're going to die. Got it?"

There was no response, but Dean started walking towards us. Kevin must've nodded. Sam and I walked over Estelle's body and through the screen door, Dean catching up.

"You're just gonna leave me here to bleed?!" Kevin called after us. "Handcuffed?!"

Dean answered by slamming the screen door.


	8. Chapter 7: Nowhere Fast

_**Aw, your reviews make me so happy! Thank you so, so, so much!**_

 _ **Chapter 7: Nowhere Fast**_

Estelle was tied to a chair in the basement, gag in mouth to prevent casting anymore damn spells. Kevin was tied down similarly, gag in mouth to prevent his goddamn voice from reaching our ears.

The sun had set, and Sam and Dean were still scouring every inch of this house. I was on the couch, maps of the area spread out all across the coffee table. They had no markings, so I took a Sharpie to every possible hideout that Estelle's sister could be burrowed down in. With all of the possible options in this godforsaken town, it wasn't looking good.

"Hey, Kate!" Sam's voice rang out from the other room.

"Yeah?" I called back, pen in mouth and eyes focused on the maps.

"We're gonna head out."

I dropped the pen out of my mouth and looked quizzically in the direction Sam's voice was coming from. "What?"

Sam walked into the doorway of the room, pointing a thumb back towards the front door. "Yeah, Dean and I still haven't found anything, and you've only got…" He looked at his watch and grimaced. "…about ten hours left. We figured…" He shrugged, giving me a what-can-ya-do expression.

I stared at him in disbelief. "What are you guys actually up to?"

His expression stormed over with defense. "Look, we stuck around as long as we could, and we tried to help you with this, alright? There's nothing else to do." He shrugged, backing out of the room. "Call us if Hazel shows up." He walked out the front door and into the dark, autumn evening.

Dean was leaving right after him, graciously pausing just long enough to wave and offer a "See ya."

I dropped the map in my lap, hurrying after my brothers. "Sam! Dean! Come on, I know you're not actually just going to leave me to die." They must have some too-dangerous plan that they don't want me a part of. "But, I need you here right now!" Sam and Dean ignored me, getting into the Impala.

I hurried down the steps, hoping to hop into the car with them, when arms wrapped around me. I was pulled backwards.

" _Sam_!" I screamed. " _Dean_!" I looked up at who was grabbing me—Death.

His gaunt face smirked down at me. "Your time is almost mine, Winchester."

I struggled away from him, screaming my brothers' names. They gave me pitying looks and drove across the gravel and onto the road.

Death (with surprising strength) grabbed my waist and hefted me over his shoulder. He was dragging me back to the house.

" _No_ ," I sobbed, hitting Death's stupid, insulting suit. _Who the hell cared how professional he dressed when he was here to rip you away from everything you loved?_

"God damn. Sit on her or something," Dean grumbled.

I froze as Death walked me through the front door of the house. "Dean?"

Dean? How…? Oh. _Oh_.

Dean plopped me back onto the couch, Sam edging towards us with that worried look of his. _Oh_.

"Kate, you OK?" Sam inched closer, his tense hands just waiting to reach out and hold me down. Dean mirrored his posture, a pinched face of his own.

I blew out a breath and rubbed at the tears on my cheeks. "Yeah. Sorry. I'm fine."

They relaxed slightly. Dean ran a hand down his face, the way he always does. "We need to find that freaking witch. Now."

I shot him a look. "As if we aren't trying."

Dean snatched up the map I had been focused on, his eyes glancing over the indicated possible hideouts. He looked back up at Sam. "You are on crazy-watch. I'm going to go find this bitch and fix this."

Sam tilted his head disapprovingly. "Dean—"

"You're leaving?" I asked. It was easy to hear the fear in my question, but I didn't care how vulnerable I seemed right now. I _was_ vulnerable; I had just watched my brothers walk out on me.

Dean looked at me, and his tense expression softened. "I'm just going to go check some of these spots out, kid. I'll be back ASAP." He grabbed a couple more annotated maps and headed for the door.

"Dean, wait," I pleaded, jumping up and meeting him at the screen door. "What… what if I don't see you again?" I searched his face, and I saw my pain amplified.

"Kate, I'll be back before…" He swallowed. "I'm coming right back. I've gotta do something."

I bit my lip, but I couldn't stop voicing my fears. "I might not be coherent by the time you get back, Dean. I…"

"Then I better drag this witch back with me, huh?" Dean cupped my cheek, trying to look sure of himself. I knew better. "You're gonna be fine, Katie. I promise."

I closed my eyes in defeat. This could be our goodbye, I guessed. He kissed me on the forehead and left for the Impala.

"Call me with any changes!" Dean shouted to Sam. Sam gave a stiff nod.

"Dean!" I called.

He froze getting into the car, looking at me.

I struggled with the words but managed, "You, uh, know. You're… the best." That was the closest I could come to parting words. _I love you_ was what I intended to say. Something loving and final.

The tip of his mouth twitched up. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. You too, kid." He slid into his car, having given his reassuring _I love you too_.

Winchesters—the most eloquent hunters you'll ever find.

* * *

It was an hour later, and we still had nothing. The maps had all been scoured, and no other clues turned up. Still no word from Dean—that gnawed at me.

Sam's phone rang. He flipped it up with a relieved "Dean." _Speak of the Devil_.

"Where?" Sam jumped to his feet, moving towards me and all the maps laid out on the coffee table. After listening, Sam picked up a map and stared. "Yeah, I see it. Are you going to bag her and bring her back here?" Sam listened. "OK, just—"

"Dean?!" Sam called, his face displaying his clear panic. Even from the couch, I could hear the violent struggle happening on the other end of that line.

"Dean!" Sam repeated frantically.

"What happened?" I stood next to him, trying to hear anything on the other end of the line; it was silent.

Sam snapped his phone shut and headed for the door, map in hand. "Dean found Hazel, and—I have no idea what happened." At the front door, he whirled around and stared intently at me. "I need you to stay here, OK? Don't open the door, don't leave, don't touch anything."

I shook my head. "I'm coming with you!"

Sam backed out the front door, all ready with his denial. "It's too dangerous right now, Kate." He was jogging off the stairs, heading for one of Estelle's cars in the open garage. "You can't be sure of what's real—"

An invisible force sent Sam flying, landing in front of me on the steps. His neck was at awkward angle; his eyes stared up at me, but they saw nothing.

"SAM!" I went to bolt forward, but it was like I was in a dream; no matter how hard I tried to move towards him, I couldn't do it.

Wailing, I looked around for what caused it. On the edge of the forest, a scraggily-haired woman around Estelle's age grinned. She gave me a wave.

I pushed as hard as I could, and vengeance fueled me—I broke free. I sprinted with everything I had towards that damn woman at the edge of the trees, and she hid behind the trunks. By the time I got there, she had simply disappeared. I swiveled in a frantic circle, looking for the woman that could save me and my brothers.

She was nowhere.

I fell to my knees, desperation and hopelessness clawing at my chest. _Where was Dean? Did she kill him too? Was any of this even real?_ I closed my eyes and let sobs erupt from my throat. _Please, please let this be some god-awful halluci—_

"Kate!" Large arms wrapped around me, clutching me to a broad chest.

 _Thank God. Thank God. Thank God._ I fell into Sam willingly, keeping my eyes closed. If I opened them, I was afraid that this curse would show me his lifeless corpse instead.

"It's OK, Katie," Sam assured me, holding me close. "None of it was real. You're gonna be fine."

I breathed out a shaky breath. "Did Dean call?"

"Dean?" Sam's worry was practically tangible. "No. Not yet, anyways."

Relief replaced tension. I sagged. Slowly, I let my eyes open and, sure enough, a broad shoulder engulfed my vision. _Thank God._

"Come on," Sam said, "let's head back." I nodded as he helped me to my feet. He hit me with his Worry Eyes.

I rolled my eyes and dashed away the last of my tears. "It's fine, worry wart. Put those eyes away."

He gave me a disbelieving look and placed a hand on my back. We started walking back towards the house.

A wind blew from behind, rustling the leaves at our feet. I glanced back and saw movement in the corner of my eye. I stopped and stared. Hazel grinned again and slinked back behind a tree.

 _That bitch._ I started towards her, but Sam wrapped his arm around my middle.

"Kate?" he asked, worried that I had lost it again.

But she was right there, and I had just hallucinated my worst fears. There was no way this was a part of the spell.

"I just saw Hazel," I said, staring at the trees. "She's just hiding out, Sam. She's waiting for something." _Probably for me to die._

Sam's tone was cautious. "Kate, there's no one there. It's just the spell."

I pointed towards the trees. "She was right there!" I shoved him off me and marched over towards the trees. Hazel was nowhere. "I swear! She was right here!" I moved further into the forest, but Sam stopped me.

"Kate, let's go back to the house," he said. His tone was slightly patronizing. "We, we can call Dean, and—"

"She's here, Sam!" OK, I understood how crazy I seemed, but she was _there_. I saw her. It didn't make sense for the spell to have me hallucinate her, and by instinct, I knew she had been watching this all unfold.

Sam grabbed my wrist, preventing me from moving further into the forest.

I spun around, annoyed at his expression; he honestly believed I was psychotic at this point. "Sam! We can find her!" I tugged on my arm, but he wouldn't relent.

With a weary sigh, Sam stepped towards me and threw me over his shoulder. He started marching us back towards the house.

I slapped his back. "Sam! I'm serious! God, I know I'm insane, but I don't see the harm in searching through the woods!" _(In the dark. While I was hallucinating up the whazoo. I'm sure it would have been fine, though.)_

"You're seeing things, Kate," Sam said, trying to calm me down.

" _I know_!" I shrieked back, trying to struggle off of his shoulder. "But I _saw Hazel_!"

Sam ignored me after that. I couldn't really blame him, but I still found myself slightly insulted.

"You're freakishly tall," I grumbled, going limp.

After walking through the front door of the house, Sam moved into the living area and dumped me on the couch. I glared at him; he turned his Big Brother Eyes on me.

"Stay on the couch," he said with a stern point.

I rolled my eyes and childishly crossed my arms. Sam took that as acceptance.

He pulled out his phone and dialed up Dean, keeping me on the edge of his sight. When Dean picked up, Sam debriefed on all that went down. I frowned, knowing that the hallucinations I encountered tonight would haunt me for as long as I lived.

"Yeah, I know," Sam said, his tone tense. "She insists that she saw Hazel out at the edge of the trees, but…" He glanced at me and turned away. "Yeah."

After another minute of vague conversation, Sam held the phone out to me. I snatched it with a glower.

"Hey, kid," Dean greeted. "How're you holdin' up?" He was trying to sound positive on my behalf, which told me that he had found nothing.

I leaned onto my knees. "You know, seeing my brothers constantly dying in front of me. Same old, same old, I guess."

Dean's sigh was frustrated. "I'm still lookin', Kate. She's gotta be around here somewhere."

"Like the forest right next to the house?" I prompted dryly. "No, no, it would be stupid to think that she wanted to keep an eye on the sister she lives with and the hunters she just cursed."

"I'll check it out when I get back," Dean assured me.

I leaned my chin into my propped hand. "When will that be?"

"After a couple more location scouts," he said.

My watch beeped. Ten PM. Eight hours left.

" _Hey_." Dean drew my attention back to him; I bet his watch beeped too. "We'll figure this out. We always do." I could picture his goofy grin.

"I guess," I said, allowing a slight smile at his reassurance.

"I'll call you when I'm heading back," he said. "Stay safe, and give Sam a hard time for me, would ya?"

I wrinkled my nose. "I'll do my best."

"There's my girl." _God, you knew the end was coming when Dean Winchester was affectionate_.

Still, he had me smiling as I shut the phone.

Sam took the phone back tentatively, his eyes watching me closely. Feeling bad about before, I patted the cushion next to me; Sam took it.

After a moment, I pointed to his wrinkled, dirtied plaid shirt. "Anyone ever tell you that you wear too much plaid?"

Sam gave a soft smirk as he looked down at himself. "Just you."

With a grin, I leaned my head on his arm. He hesitated for a minute and then wrapped the arm around my shoulders. I leaned my head against him again.

"You know," I said, trying to bring my point back, "it's not crazy to think Hazel would stick around here to keep an eye on things."

He huffed. "I know. Dean or I will check it out when he gets back."

 _Score_. I rubbed at my eyes with the heel of my palm and gave him a thumbs up.

"Why don't you get some shuteye?" Sam suggested, looking down at me. "I'll keep an eye on things."

I leaned into him, thinking there was no way in hell I would be able to sleep with all the crap that was trying to drag me down.

I was wrong.


	9. Chapter 8: My Plan

_**Chapter 8: My Plan**_

A couple of hours later, I awoke to Sam's watch beeping—midnight. Six hours left.

Sam still had his arm on me, slouched against the couch and asleep. I turned to look at him and jolted—his neck was torn open, his neck muscles and bones ripped and exposed. Blood covered his chin and neck and soaked into the blue, collared shirt.

My scrambling backwards jerked him awake. I blinked, and there was Sam: healthy, fine, tiredly blinking at me.

I puffed out the breath I had been holding and leaned forwards with closed eyes. Maybe I would die from a heart attack.

Sam's phone rang, and Sam hurried to answer. The conversation was brief. "Dean's on his way back."

I gave a nod, still not ready to open my eyes.

"Kate, do you want coffee? A sandwich? Anything?"

I gave a nod. "Coffee." Tentatively, I opened an eye—and was hit with immediate regret. My speaking brother was nowhere to be found. The only thing I saw was Sam's dying body, coughing blood and piercing me with accusing eyes. A large knife protruded from his abdomen, causing a pool of blood to flood his shirt and slink beneath him.

I hurriedly reclosed my eyes. "Not real," I whispered to myself. "Not real, not real."

* * *

It was a full forty-five minutes before Dean got back, his boots stomping dejectedly up the porch steps. I stayed on the couch, eyes closed.

"Katie?" Dean's voice was worried and coming towards me.

I waved, but I didn't move or dare to open my eyes.

"It… got worse," Sam said.

" _Worse?_ "

"She can't really see anything but… us dying anymore," Sam explained. And that was putting it lightly. Every time I opened my eyes, there was Dean with his flesh filleted open and intestines spilling out, Sam dangling from the ceiling by a fat hook through the neck, Dean begging me to end it because his bones were piercing through his skin, Sam with his skin splitting open at unnatural seams and his earsplitting screams of agony, Dean with—

" _Jesus_."

"She can tune it out better if she ignores the visuals and focuses on our voices," Sam said.

I imagined Dean was rubbing his hand down his face at this point. "That bitch wasn't at any of the possible locations."

"Maybe… we can get Kevin to do a locating spell?" Sam suggested.

Dean scoffed. "Yeah, I'm sure convincing the guy tied up in the basement to help us will go over _real_ well."

"We gotta try something, Dean."

" _I KNOW!_ " (Even I flinched at Dean's words.) Softer this time, Dean repeated, "I know. Look, we'll—"

I stood up and kept my eyes focused on the floorboards in front of me. I ignored the pools of blood creeping into the edges of my vision. "Let's check out the woods."

"Kate." Sam had his condescendingly pitying tone out. "We can check, but—"

I looked up at the decaying images of my brothers, and I forced out the words, "I don't care if you think I was hallucinating Hazel earlier. It's a good plan, and God knows we could use _any_ plan right about now."

Our watches beeped for 1 AM, reiterating my point.

Dean's voice came from the air to my left, as his corpse rotting on the floor was the only thing I saw. "Look, we'll go check out the forest. But you're not coming with."

I gritted my teeth. " _Yes_ , I _am_."

" _No_ , you're _not_ ," he shot back. "You'll get yourself killed out there, Kate!"

"I'll get myself killed in here!"

"No! You go out there, you'll be defenseless because there's no way in hell you can use a gun right now."

"Kate." Sam's voice floated from my right, over his shredded and bloodied remains. "You wait here, and we'll check it out. You know you're seeing things right now."

I immaturely flopped back onto the couch, closing my eyes again. "Fine."

A hand came to the back of my head. "We'll be right back," Sam promised. His boots walked across the hardwood towards the front door.

Dean nudged my shoulder. "Don't do anything stupid or I'll come back here and bust your ass."

I couldn't help the smirk that came. "Don't make promises you can't keep, big brother."

As he walked towards the door, he grumbled to himself about idiot sisters.

The door slammed, and I sat on the couch, essentially waiting for my death.

After a few minutes of keeping my eyes closed, I was beginning to drift back to sleep.

"Kaaaaaate…"

I perked up but remembered to not to open my eyes.

" _Kaaaaaate_ …" The voice was faintly echoing around me.

I stood up, trying to locate the sound without sight.

"Kaaaaaate…"

Screw this. I opened my eyes—and stumbled backwards. Sam's pale, ghostly figured stared at me with haunted eyes. His neck was slit open, straight to the bone. He opened his mouth, and blood dribbled down. "Kaaaaaate…."

Tears welled up as I walked backwards. "You're not real."

Sam's eyes grew more despaired. "Kaaaaaate…"

I turned around, dashing away the tears. This was going to end. I was going to end this. I headed straight for the stairs to the basement.

"Kaaaaaate…!" Sam's figure was always there, always in my line of sight. I shoved past him, and stomped into the basement. Estelle and Kevin snapped awake, both still gagged and tied to kitchen chairs.

"You're going to end this!" I commanded. "You're going to make this stupid spell go away right now!"

Estelle's eyes carried a triumphant gleam; Kevin looked uneasy. _Bingo_.

I marched up to him and tugged his gag down. "How do I end this?"

He looked back up at me. "Death."

I pressed my lips together and tried again. "I did nothing to deserve this, Kevin. You know it. I came here to help people. So why am I being sentenced to die?"

He shrugged. "I'm just a student; I don't make the judgment calls."

 _Oh, please_. "Man up! It's your own damn life—do you think my death is fair or not?!"

His eyes snapped to mine. "I don't know—who let who stay tied up in a basement all night?"

I glared at him. "I'll owe you a favor, then."

He scoffed. "Playing my humanity didn't work so now you're going for a bargain? I don't think so, bitch. You can't offer anything I want."

I leaned forward and raised a challenging eyebrow. "I have access to a powerful coven. One that doesn't have batshit crazy Estelles or curse-casting lunatics like Hazel. I can get you in." (Well, there was no saying I could get him _in_ per se, but I did know of a coven on the east coast.)

His jaw clenched as he considered. "How do I know you're not lying?"

I shrugged and straightened. "You don't. But right now, your options are help me and get better witch teachers or burn alongside these ancient hags." Estelle's eyes narrowed on me.

Kevin looked around before puffing out a breath. "Fine. But I wasn't lying when I said I couldn't cancel your curse."

I clenched my jaw and moved to tug his gag back into place.

"But, but, but, but!" He urgently looked up at me. "I can find you Hazel. I swear."

I stared at him, considering. But, honestly? Right now, my options were to be the sitting duck or trust this douchebag. I went to untie his hands.


	10. Chapter 9: Cutting the Crazy

_**Chapter 9: Cutting the Crazy**_

Kevin was bent over a bowl full of all kinds of mystical crap, mediating with his eyes closed. "She's not far."

I leaned over the kitchen table towards him. "How far is 'not far?'"

" _Kaaaaaate! Please!_ " I kept my eyes focused on the blood-covered bones and witchiness in the bowl.

Kevin opened his eyes. "Two mile radius."

I took a step back and ignored the dying Dean to my right. "She's less than two miles from here? You got a direction?"

Kevin rubbed his forehead with the heel of his palm. "I can try to narrow it down."

"KATE!" A hand gripped my arm, shoving me. I looked up in surprise, and Dean's ghostly face was in front of me. "Why couldn't you save us?"

I turned away, trying to calm my racing heart. The hallucinations could touch me now. _Awesome_.

Kevin was focused and chanting. I tried to concentrate on him.

"She's north of here," Kevin announced a few moments later. He looked up at me, blood dripping from his nose.

A gave a nod, turning to the north end of the house—the front yard led right into the woods that I knew she would be in. Sam and Dean were right on her ass, and she probably knew it.

My arm was suddenly stinging. With a jerk, I pulled my arm out in front of me. Four long scratches raked down my arm. What the hell?

"KATE! Listen to me!" Sam's haggard and decaying face was in front of me, angrily pleading.

"Your hallucinations are escalating," Kevin said from behind me. I whipped around to see his slightly sympathetic look. "They can affect you physically now. You've got less than an hour to go."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "No; I've still got four hours."

His look was condescending. "I don't know who gave you that estimate, but the hallucinations can only affect you physically if you're on your final hour."

Oh, I wanted to kill this son of a bitch. "You—" A shove from my back had be stumbling into the table.

"Kate! Why do you never listen to us?" Sam shouted behind me.

"God, you've always been so incompetent," Dean hissed, pushing his way into my vision from the right. "I'm glad you weren't in the woods with us when we died; it was nice to have one fucking hour without your annoying ass."

"Not real, not real, not real," I chanted and kept my eyes to the ground. Sam and Dean were not dead. They couldn't be. But I couldn't just let them try to find this witch on their own. They still thought that I had my four hours left; what if they came back after this hour was up?

I looked up to Kevin. "If my brothers come back, tell them I'm hunting down the bitch."

He glared at me. "Oh, yeah. I'm sure they're going to want to listen to me when you're out dead in the woods. I'm a dead man walking when it comes to those two lunatics!"

" _KATE_!"

I shook my head. "Look, they come in here, you tell them that this was _not_ a funkytown situation, alright? Tell them about our deal. They'll believe you if you tell 'em that."

Kevin cursed and looked heavenwards. _Whatever. Least of my problems at this point, honestly_. I checked that my gun was still fully loaded with witch-killing bullets. I went into the living room, grabbed the iron crowbar, and then walked back to Kevin. He looked at me questioningly.

"Sorry, but I'm not a trusty-feely kind of girl." I slammed the crowbar across his temple; he slumped, unconscious, to the kitchen tile.

I headed out into the woods to gank a witch.

* * *

"Fitting, isn't it?" Sam said gloatingly. "We die out in these godforsaken woods, trying to clean up your stupid mess _again_. And now you're going to die out here, doing nothing to help the situation. God, this is so typical."

The movement of that massive, black dog caught my eye. The dog slinked back into the deep woods. _Great. The only thing that had been missing from my night was a giant-ass dog to forebode my impending chew toy status._

"You're so pathetic sometimes, you know that?" Dean ranted from my right. "You couldn't interview one old woman on your own without getting us all killed."

I looked around the woods, trying to figure out where Hazel would be lurking.

"I can't ever leave you alone!" Dean shouted, shoving my shoulder harshly. I did my best to ignore him. "I have to be the parent all the goddamn time! _Well, guess what, Katie_? You're twenty-four years old! It's time you took care of yourself for one damn time in your life!"

I think Hazel would have been watching the house somehow. That left the options of height—maybe up in the trees?—or proximity. I'd try proximity first.

"Do you even know how many times I've resented your existence?" Sam demanded in front of me. I noticed he no longer looked ghoulish; he looked like my healthy big brother. I walked around him, but he grabbed my arm, bruising it. I stood stoically. "Dad always made me look after you. And Dean's right—I'm sick of it! What the hell have you ever contributed to our family?"

"Other than getting us in trouble with Dad?" Dean asked with raised eyebrows, also looking like his normal self. "Or getting us into high water time and time again? Or, hey, how about the time that you let a witch murder us?"

Sam scoffed and looked me over with disproving eyes. "How the hell are you a Winchester?" He shoved my aching arm away.

I bit the inside of my lip and marched away. The dead Winchester brothers flanked me again within seconds, spouting new threats, blame, and insults.

A flash of movement was illuminated by the moon a few feet ahead. I chased after it, quickly and silently.

"Kate! God, what is it going to take to make you _listen_?!"

I rounded around the trees and was rewarded with the best sight I'd had in days: Hazel's quivering, ratty, grey hair as she scanned the area in front of us.

Silently, I approached her and then sprang. I shoved the iron crowbar against her throat. "Good to meet you, Hazel!"

Her eyes frantically looked around and her long, bony fingers clawed at my hands. I tightened the bar, not letting her make a sound.

"You're going to call off your hound, Hazel," I said through gritted teeth. "Reverse your goddamn curse."

Her tongue flicked out from her teeth, and she fought against the bar.

"Oh, give it up, Katie!" Dean said, waving a hand at us. "She's never gonna help you!"

Sam shrugged, his arms crossed across his chest. "Dean's got a point. You're dead already. Might as well accept it at this point."

Growling erupted behind me. I spun around, keeping Hazel choking in front of me. The beast of a dog was snarling, creeping closer towards me.

"Call it off, Hazel," I demanded. "CALL OFF YOUR DOG!"

I let the crowbar off Hazel's throat enough for her to choke out, "Grune, _nien_!" The dog eyed me dangerously before slinking back into the darkness of the woods.

"Oh, just let her go, Kate!" Sam demanded in annoyance. He marched over and started trying to pry my hands from the crowbar at Hazel's neck. "She can't help you!"

"No!" I screamed, fighting against my imaginary brother's hold. "Hazel, reverse this damn curse!" As I was being fought off of Hazel, Hazel dropped to the ground and began cackling.

"No!" I shouted, fighting Sam's arms wrapped around me.

Dean walked up, looking at me in disgust. "Why do you always have to be so damn stubborn? You're such a disappointment. Thank God Dad can't see you now."

"Dean—!" I pleaded.

Dean's anger overtook him, and he slammed his fist down onto my face. My eye and cheek flared with red-hot pain.

"Kate!" Sam and Dean burst into the scene, their eyes on me then on Hazel then back on me.

"We would never save you," the imaginary Dean said to my right. "You're not worth the energy." The imaginary Sam threw me to the ground.

"Kate!" Sam hurried over to help me. Dean headed for the witch.

Hazel began chanting, causing an explosion of pain to overtake the three of us.

An image of Dean stood over me as I clutched my head in agony. "See? You do kill us. You caused all of this. Honestly, murdering you would be merciful." He delivered a kick to my side, and rolled to shield my head and abdomen from him.

As I rolled over, I met Sam and Dean's dead bodies, staring blankly up at the trees. Hazel stood over us triumphantly.

"Not real!" I forced back my tears and focused on the pain in my head and the small belief that I was still hallucinating.

"Kate!" Sam grabbed onto my arm, and I flinched away. I made my eyes focus on his writhing, suddenly alive form. He looked at me with worried eyes.

"We were wrong! I have like thirty minutes left to live, Sammy!" I rushed to explain. "The hallucinations are _real_ to me now."

His eyes lit with renewed panic, and he comforted me with a squeeze to my arm. His squeeze, however, lingered and grew in strength. He was hurting me, bruising my already bruised arm, and his eyes reflected fury.

"No, please!" I begged, trying to roll away from him. The tears were coming down my cheeks.

I heard a fight break out, and the pulsating pain in my head disappeared. I was able to wrench my arm away from Sam's grip.

"Such a coward," he said, standing over me. He kicked me in the side, and I whimpered.

"Reverse it!" I heard Dean's voice shouting in the distance.

"Kate?" Sam's worried voice came from somewhere far away.

"Why won't you just die?!" Sam demanded, his voice right in my ear. "You think you have something worth living for? You parents are dead! Your brothers are dying because of you! No one can love you anymore! Just give in already!"

I shook my head, forcing back the tears that overwhelmed my eyes. I kept my eyes on the forest floor.

"We're going to leave you here for Grute to eat," Dean said, kicking me over to my side. I looked up to see him stand over me. "You're nothing to us anymore, kid. If we just leave you behind, maybe we can get out of this. If not, well," he shrugged, "at least we didn't have to die around you."

"How does it feel?" Sam's snarling voice was in my ear. "To know that you're the one that killed your whole family? Does it make you feel good to have those murders under your skin? Do you enjoy the fact that nobody else on this _planet_ cares about you anymore?"

"You might as well die at this point," Dean suggested, nodding towards the gun I had stashed at the back of my jeans. "There's nothing left in this world to live for."

Sam sighed. "If you don't do it, we're going to have to."

Dean shook his head in disappointment. "You've done too much damage for one lifetime. Either you go out yourself, or we'll force you out."

I raised my chin and formed false bravado. "You can't kill me; you're not real."

Dean offered me an amused smirk, stepping slowly towards me. He knelt right down beside me, and then grabbed my arm and snapped it in half in one swift movement. My scream of agony didn't even phase him. "You were saying?"

Some part of me felt my body being gathered into comforting, protective arms, but I was too far gone at this point.

Dean shook his head in disgust. "We're going to have to put you down."

Sam gave a snort. "Fitting for this bitch." He grinned at Dean.

The edge of Dean's mouth went up as he stalked towards me. His eyes were menacing and full of hate.

"No, Dean, please," I begged, tears filling my vision.

He didn't listen. My eldest brother grabbed me by the neck of my t-shirt and brought his fist down on my face. Pain erupted throughout my skin, but he brought his fist right back to where he hit before. I tried to push him away, but it was like he just went right through my hands. His fist came down again, and again, and again.

"DEAN!" Sam's urgent voice was hazy and distant, but it sounded like my worried, loving brother.

"Sammy," I gasped, a small smile coming to my bloody lips.

"Shut up, bitch," Sam snarled, delivering another kick to my side. I jerked in pain, and then Dean's fist came down again.

"You're better off dead!" Dean said through gritted teeth, punctuating his sentences with punches. "We won't have to pay for you or see you or think about you ever again!"

"Dean," I sobbed, blood bubbling down my lips. My tears swam down my bloodied, swelling skin.

He suddenly shoved me away, pointing a gun at me in the next moment. His eyes were dark. "Any final speeches, Katie?"

I leaned backwards and tried to control my cries. The gun was cocked.

"Kate!"

I looked up to see Sam holding me down. "No!" I gasped, flopping out of his hold and onto the dirt. On my unbroken arm, I tried crawling away.

"Kate, Kate!" Dean was right behind me, dragging me to my feet.

"No!" I screamed, thrashing away from him.

Dean gripped me tight and turned me in his arms. His eyes searched my face desperately. "Kate, it's OK! You're OK! It's over!"

Through swollen, tear-filled eyes, I looked up into the loving, anxious eyes of my oldest brother. "D-dean?"

His eyes closed in relief, and he pulled me close to him, his hand enveloping the back of my head. Sobs of relief that wracked through me.

After a few moments, I heard Sam say, "We gotta burn these witches before they wake up." I looked up to see his tall frame glaring at the unconscious forms of Hazel and Estelle. I didn't miss the obvious signs of torture on Estelle; it was kind of hard to miss the bleeding, gaping cuts.

"Sam!" I let go of Dean to rush towards my lumbering brother. I gripped him tight and fought the sobs that wanted to start anew.

"Hey," he breathed, holding me close. His chin rested on the top of my head as he held me.

"Thank you," I whispered. I pulled back a bit so I could look at both of my brothers. "Thank you both."

Dean scoffed, wiping his bloody hunter's knife on his jeans and sticking it into his jeans. "You think we're gonna let anything get our little sister?" He walked closer and laid his arm over my shoulder; Sam kept his around my middle. "Never gonna happen, Katie." He kissed the top of my head.

I closed my eyes and let myself believe that this was real. Honestly, this could be a pain-filled Heaven, and I would probably still take it; my brothers were here. However, my adrenaline had worn off, and I was exhausted. I took a step forward, and my leg faltered.

"Woah, easy," Dean cautioned as Sam held me up. "Sammy, take her to the car. I'll take care of this."

I shook my head and pulled away. "I'm fine." I took a couple of steps to the right, and Dean caught me before I could fall.

He scoffed. "Yeah, this is fine?"

Sam started walking towards the witches. "You're better at stitches, anyways. You take care of her, and I'll take care… of this." He waved his gun over the witches' bodies.

I took a couple of steps more, and my knees gave out entirely. I was so tired.

"I gotcha, kid," Dean said, scooping me up into his arms. He was careful to avoid my unnaturally bent arm, letting it dangle down in front of us as we walked.

"Dean," I sighed, letting my eyes stay closed.

"Hmm?"

"How do I know this is real?"

He was silent as he continued to stride out of the woods. "Well, reality's a bitch, right? And your face and arm hurt, right? So, there ya go."

I thought about it, but all I felt was numb. "'t doesn't hurt anymore..."

His grip tightened. "You're going into shock."

"Mmm…"

"Well, it's going to hurt like a bitch when I reset your arm," he vowed.

I frowned. "Can't we do it in the morning?"

I heard a car door open, and Dean started lowering me onto the backseat.

"Not when it's swelling like this," he said, gently taking my arm.

I opened my eyes, and for a moment, I panicked; Dean was hovering over me in the dark, his hands on my injured arm. I gasped and yanked my arm back, hurting myself more in the process. I whimpered.

"Hey, whoa, easy," Dean soothed, running his hand through my hair like he did when I was little. "I'll make it quick, I promise. I'll even give you some of the good meds if you're good." I could see his smirk, even in the dark.

I tentatively tried to return the grin as I let Dean take my arm again. "What about ice cream?"

"Oh, _buttloads_ of ice cream are heading your way," he vowed, gently probing the misaligned bones. I bit my teeth to prevent my crying out. "Shit. The bones are overlapping."

He fished a red handkerchief out of his pocket and put it in front of my mouth. "Bite down."

Dread filled me, and I obeyed.

"On three," he said, lightly gripping each section of my forearm. I tried not to tense. "One… Two…" He snapped the bones back into place, never making it to three. My scream of agony was instantaneous.

Dean pulled the material from my bloody mouth, soothing me the best he could. "Sorry, Katie. I'm sorry." He hurried out of the backseat and fished around in the trunk before coming back. He wrapped an ace bandage around the swelling, pulsating arm as tight as he could without cutting off the circulation.

Just as he was ripping off the bandage, two shots came from the woods. Dean paused, listening. A furious snarl tore through air—definitely not our brother's doing.

"Sam," Dean and I gasped together. Dean tucked my legs onto the seat before slamming the door shut.

"Don't move," he said, using his stern, parental pointing finger. He ran off into the woods, after our brother.

I laid on the seat, trying to ignore the nauseating images I had seen of my brothers tonight. I tried to think of my brothers now, how they loved me and they loved each other, and how they were out there fighting… fighting…

" _Grune_ ," I gasped, realizing the beast had probably attacked when Sam shot its masters.

I struggled to sit up. My head was swimming around in my head, and the constant pain in my face and sides and arm amplified when I moved. With pained groans, I shuffled to the end of the seat and pushed open the door.

Just as I was mustering up the energy and will to push myself out the door, my brothers appeared in the rearview mirror, running towards the Impala.

"I thought I said no moving!" Dean accused, running past me and slamming my door closed. He skidded into the driver's seat just as Sammy fell into the passenger's side.

I relaxed as best I could against the seat as Dean started the engine. "What happened?"

"That beast sprang at me when I killed the witches," Sam said, examined a few cuts on his forearm. "We killed it, and left the bodies to burn by the house." He put down his arm and turned to look at me with the Big Ol' Worried Eyes. "How're you holdin' up?"

I closed my eyes. "I've been better, but I'll live."

"If you don't have internal damage," Sam said and turned to our driver. "Dean, I think we should take her the hospital so they can check her out."

I peeked open an eye to see Dean examining me worriedly through the rearview mirror. "No," I said. "No hospitals. 'M fine."

Dean sighed. "Kate, your—"

"I'm fine," I repeated, letting my eyes fall closed again. "Besides, I believe my dear, old brother promised me the good meds."

Sam shuffled around in the glove compartment; I smirked to the sound of the pill bottle rattling.

 **One more chapter after this! (It'll be a real long one.)**

 **Thank you all so much for your support and reviews!**


	11. Epilogue: Side Effects

**Alas, we have reached the end of this journey together. Thank you so much for your diligence and support as I have spat out this lil' tale. Y'all are the best!**

 _ **Epilogue: Side Effects**_

"Hey, kid." Dean nudged my knee—the only place not aching with the fury of a thousand suns.

This was what I imagined Hell felt like. My face felt twice the size of normal, making it hurt to move at all. My ribs felt twisted in pain, my arm was throbbing steadily, and even my gums ached. I groaned at Dean's persistent poking at my knee.

"I know, I know," he said. "Take these pills, and I'll let you go back to sleep."

I tried to push myself up the bed, but with one arm and bruised ribs, it was almost impossible.

Without a word, Dean moved closer and lifted me into a somewhat sitting position.

"Thanks," I mumbled as he dumped a pile of pills into my hands. I squinted at them through my swollen eyelids. "Jesus Christ, Dean. Are you trying to kill me?"

He rolled his eyes and pointed to each group of pills in turn. "Pain killers, anti-inflammatory, antibiotic, and anti-nausea. I checked—they ain't a deadly combo."

I eyed him faux-suspiciously as I popped all the pills in my mouth at once. He waited patiently to hand me a glass of water. After I took a long sip to choke them all down, he took the cup back and placed it on the bedside table.

"Back to sleep, sleeping ugly," he said, wrapping his hands under my shoulders and dragging me back down into a lying position.

I kind of needed to pee, but sleep seemed much more important at the moment. I let Dean mother me, tucking me in and the whole lot. It was then that I realized I didn't currently have two mother hens. "Where's Sam?"

"Ran to the store for some supplies and food."

I squinted an eye open and could see sunlight peeking through the closed blinds. "What time is it?"

"Eleven," he said. "Go back to sleep. We'll go get your arm a cast once you can keep your eyes open for longer than ten seconds."

I grunted. "You're the one feeding me sleep-inducing pain pills."

He said nothing. He focused on sharpening a knife in front of him.

I squinted an eye open at him. "Why don't you and Sammy get some sleep? God knows we all need it."

He shrugged. "I got a whole five hours." He grinned and went back to his knife. "Besides, I gotta make sure you don't fall into a coma or something. Big brother duties and all that."

I gave a soft snort. "I thought you said you researched the drugs' interactions."

"I did," he replied indignantly. "I just might've relied on Yahoo Answers. And I ain't bettin' your life on BigButts69's ideas."

I think I smiled before I fell back into sleep.

* * *

"What're you gonna do?" Sam smirked at me. "Scream?"

I pulled away from his grip on my arm. "Get away from me."

"What?" Dean stalked towards me. "Big brothers are scary now?" He scoffed and smacked me across the face. "Grow up."

"Better yet," Sam suggested, "leave." He turned away from me, focusing on cleaning his hunting knife.

Dean looked me over disdainfully. "I like his plan."

"Dean," I started.

He smacked me in the face again. "Did I say you could talk back?" He shook his head and shoved me.

"No!" My tears returned, but I couldn't let them free; Dean and Sam would just hate me more if I cried. "But I—"

"God, you're always whining!" Sam gave a short laugh, moving closer. "If you keep this up," he threatened, applied pressure to the center of my forearm, "I'll give you something to whine about."

His grip on my arm tightened painfully, and I cried out.

"Kate!"

My eyes snapped open, and Sam hovered over me. I panicked, and wanted to move backwards, but his hands quickly came down on my shoulders.

"Hey, hey, hey," he said reassuringly. "You're OK. It was a dream."

It sank in then that we were in a motel, and Sam was worrying over me while Dean hovered anxiously behind him. This was real; that had not been.

I closed my eyes and sank back against the mattress.

"How you feelin'?" Dean prompted gruffly, crossing his arms.

"Kinda achy," I said. My face and arm still dully ached.

"The pills should be wearing off soon," he noted.

"What time is it?" I asked, trying to gage from the sunlit windows.

"A little after three," Sam said.

" _Three?_ " I struggled to sit up more, and Sam helped me. "God."

"You feel up to strappin' a cast to that bad boy?" Dean asked, giving a nod towards my bandaged, broken arm.

I scrunched my nose. "If I don't have to move much."

"Thatta girl," he praised, moving closer to help me up. "I'll even take all the turns at a granny's pace."

I gave him the stink eye. "You better."

* * *

The entire ride over, Sam and Dean took turns casting anxious looks at me through the rearview mirror. Despite the agony it would push onto my ribs, I was seriously considering lying down across the backseat so I would be out of the mirror's sight. We pulled up to a hospital before I got the guts to do it.

I groaned and made no move to get out of the car after Dean had parked. " _Deeeeaaaaan_."

He had the backdoor open and was waving for me to scooch out. "Nope. Come on; let's go."

I turned my pleading look towards Sam. He gave me a what-can-I-do shrug and moved towards the hospital entrance. I gave another dramatic groan and slowly scooted myself out of the Impala.

"There ya go," Dean congratulated me, helping me to my feet with my good arm. I swayed a bit after standing up, the lasting bit of pain killers making my brain swirl. "Woah, easy there." Dean put his arm gently but firmly around my waist, careful of my aching ribs.

"I need more drugs," I complained as we walked towards the hospital.

"We'll see if you can get a morphine drip while the doc looks ya over."

I gave him a disgruntled look. "Dean, there's gonna be a lot of questions. And poking. And probing. And unnecessary _poking_."

"Relax," he said as Sam followed us towards the hospital's side entrance. "You'll be fine." He banged his fist thrice on the white, metal door.

The door swung open in the next moment, and a tall man in a white coat opened the door. It was hard to miss the cigarette perched on his lips as he stared at us. His eyes lit up as he saw Dean, and he took out the cigarette. "Deano!"

"Carter!" Dean cheered, shaking his hand jubilantly. "Thanks for hooking us up, man."

Carter stuffed the cigarette into his lab coat pocket and waved off Dean's words. "Anything for you, D. Follow me in." He held the door open for Sam to grab, and Dean helped me hobble after the doctor.

"How do you know him?" Sam asked, voicing my thoughts.

"That boys' home that I spent a couple of months in?" Dean prompted, looking back at our brother. "Carter was a good buddy there. He covered my ass a few times, and I covered his. I told him what I did one day, and he believed me when I was able to help him exorcise a ghost at his sister's house. Anyways, he went on to become a doc, and I dabble into his medical knowledge here and there."

"You sound like a good friend to have," Sam commended.

I gave Carter an approving, skeptical look. "And just how much is this friendship costing us exactly?"

Carter threw back an amused look while Dean glared down on me. "Normally, I charge friends extra, but you caught me on my lunch break; today's pro bono." He brought us into a private room after glancing down the hallway. "Here should be fine." He shut the door behind us.

Sam stood off to the side with his arms crossed as Dean eased me onto the examination table.

"So your brother said you took a beating?" Carter prompted, snapping gloves onto his hands.

I tried to give a half smile through my swollen, aching face. "I didn't think it was obvious." I shook my head lightly. "I just need a cast, doc."

Dean rolled his eyes and stepped in. "Her ribs are all black and blue, her face is ten times fatter than it should be, she's got some cuts and bruises on her arms, and her left arm is busted."

Carter stepped up and lightly prodded my cheeks before shining a light into my eyes. "Your facial bones are all intact, and your pupils are responsive. If you ice it, I'd say you lucked out there."

Carter gently took my arm and started his probing. I gritted my teeth and breathed through my nose. "Yeah, that's definitely split in two. It's severely swollen, but it should heal fine in a cast."

He nodded towards my abdomen. "Can I examine the ribs?" Tentatively, I lifted my t-shirt up with my good hand. Even in my peripheral vision, my usually pale skin was disgustingly dark; Sam and Dean's pained eyes confirmed it.

"None of the skin is damaged," the doctor noted, gently tracing my blue ribs with gloved fingers. "All of the damage is purely internal. You don't have any signs of organ damaged, but if your ribs are fractured, they could pierce something." Carter felt around more, but ultimately called for an x-ray for any break confirmations.

"That's not necessary," I said, pulling my shirt down. "Whether my ribs broken or not, I'll wrap 'em and promise not to pierce any organs with 'em."

"Kate, listen to the guy with the degree," Dean admonished.

I gave him an are-you-serious look. He knew that he wouldn't even be near a hospital if it had been him in this situation.

"An x-ray wouldn't hurt," Sam prompted me, moving closer.

Carter shrugged, snapping off his gloves and tossing them into the bin. "She doesn't need the x-ray if she doesn't want it. Just ice the ribs, keep them wrapped tight. No strenuous movement until they don't hurt and all the blue is gone; you don't want any stray bones to swim around into your lung."

Carter moved towards the door and shoved a signed piece of paper towards Sam. "'Scrip for pain pills. I'll send in someone to slap on the cast. Leave out the door you came in, and if anybody asks for insurance, point them to me."

Dean clapped him on the shoulder. "I can't thank you enough, Carter."

He shrugged and offered a winning smile. "It's the least I could do after Danielle." He waggled his eyebrows, and Dean chuckled knowingly. Sam and I exchanged an exasperated look.

Dean turned back to us with a dazed smirk. "What?"

* * *

I got my cast, we filled the prescription, and I was on my way to tripping out in the backseat of the Impala on a very, very long car ride. Until we pulled up to the motel.

"I'm gonna stay in the back," I said, settling against the seat carefully. They could handle grabbing our stuff.

Dean opened my door. "Move it, kid."

I squinted up at him. "Why?"

"We ain't hittin' the road right away, that's why."

With a confused look, I pushed myself out of the car. "Why?"

"Uh, because maybe you should have more than twelve hours of recuperating time?" Dean shut the car door behind us. He stayed on my heels to help me, but I wasn't as haggard now that the meds had kicked in.

"That's dumb," I said, following Sam into the motel. "I'm fine." Sam turned, mid unlocking the door, just to give me a you're-crazy look.

"Sam and I thought we'd just have a few low-key days here. That way—"

" _Few days_?" I turned towards Dean. "No. One night, _tops_."

Dean scoffed and turned me back towards the open room door. "Yeah, you can make the demands when you're not high off your ass."

"No, Dean," I complained, the drugs starting to make everything weird and tiring. "I wanna leave today."

Dean ignored me, helping me sit on the bed. He helped me raise my shirt as Sam handed us ace bandages. Even through the drug-filled, I could see my brothers grimacing as they tightened the wrap around my blue ribs.

"I always wanted to be blue," I mused aloud. "Like that, that, that _one_ band from the _90's_ that was, uh… blue."

"Yeah, well, enjoy it while it lasts," Dean grumbled as he helped lower me to the bed. Sam dropped a towel full of ice on my ribs and a towel full of ice to my face. Dean started untying my boots without prompting, and I was grateful—there was no way I could reach the laces without killing my ribs. _This was dumb_. Who the hell deserved imaginary brothers to beat the crap out of 'em? God, why did witches have to be such dicks? Well, Kevin wasn't that bad. He helped—

"Kevin!" I exclaimed, rocking into a sitting position. Ice fell to the crappy bedspread.

Sam moved closer to reposition the makeshift ice packs, and Dean held his hands out to steady me.

"We didn't help Kevin!" I explained as the drugs made thinking really hard. "I told him I would, but I didn't help him because we scrammed before we did, but I _told_ him—"

"He was long gone when we left," Sam said. "We checked."

"We have to find him," I said, pushing myself up and off the bed.

"Woah, Slater," Dean said, stopping me from standing up. "We'll find him when you're on the up and up, alright?"

I fell back against the mattress. "'M not Slater; you're Slater." Sam put the cold towels back where he wanted 'em.

"Good one." Dean turned to Sam. "I'm gonna go grab us some actual food. You up for some babysitting?"

"I'm not a baaaaaaaby," I whined while keeping my eyes closed.

"I got this," Sam said.

"Get some rest, kid," Dean said, patting me on the top of my head.

"I'm not a kiiiiiiiiiiiid."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Dean shooed me off as he headed out the door.

I laid for a minute in silence as Sam shuffled around in the kitchenette. If I kept my eyes closed, it was like a ghost was haunting the kitchen cabinets or something. "Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think ghosts are real?"

"Kate… you've seen ghosts. You've _exorcised_ ghosts."

"Yeah, but do you think they're real?"

* * *

I must've passed out at some point, because the next thing I knew, it was dark and everything hurt like a bitch. Even my head was pulsing with pain.

Some part of me knew I was dreaming, but my brain focused on the images at hand.

"You gonna stop being such a pain in the ass anytime soon?" Sam asked, shoving past me into the kitchenette.

"I just need some drugs," I said, fumbling for a pill bottle. They were all empty.

Dean stepped up and scoffed. "You tore through those in a day. Should've kept some for next time crap like this happens, but you never think ahead. You never see past anybody but yourself, Katelyn." He shook his head and turned away from me.

And, suddenly, we were back in that forest, in the midst of those woods, right on the property near the house.

"Life would be so much easier without you around," Sam said easily with a shrug. He checked the bullets in his gun and cocked it.

"You think Mom would've been proud of anything you've ever done?" Dean looked me over disdainfully. "You think Dad would have? Katelyn, you're twenty-four, and you've got nothing to show for even existing. You're pathetic."

"I-I've helped people," I protested weakly.

Sam sighed in annoyance. "Are you going to end yourself or do we have to clean up your messes again?"

My lip trembled. "No, Sam. Dean. I know, I've—"

"Give me it," Dean commanded, grabbing the gun from Sam. He strutted towards me, and his eyes glinted darkly. "I'll do it myself."

"Kate, Kate."

My eyes shot open to a darkened silhouette. I instinctively shoved him away and hurried over the bed so I'd have a buffer. "Back off!"

"Kate!" Sam said, his hands held up in surrender. "It's OK!"

I made my eyes focus, and I could see the hurt in his hazel eyes. This was Real. This was Sam. And Dean wasn't… He hadn't…

I broke down in tears, hating myself for feeling this fear of my own flesh and blood. I was afraid of the ones who had raised me. I was trembling and craving their comfort but still afraid of their physical touch.

Sam gathered me in his arms all the same, hushing me as I battled a hurricane of emotions.

"I wanna go," I gasped through tears, pulling back. "I wanna leave."

Sam looked confused. "What? Katie—"

"I wanna go, _please_ ," I begged through a sob, sinking away from his chest. "Please, I want to leave this town. _Please_!"

Sam gave a nod and helped me to my feet. He moved away and headed towards the bathroom door. He banged on it with the side of his fist. "Dean!"

I had to leave. I had to get out of this god-awful town and leave those brothers that hate me and want me dead because they would always live here. I frantically started pulling stray clothes and pill bottles and anything I could grab into any available duffle bag. Some part of me heard a stream of water shut off and Dean's muffled shout.

"We gotta go, Dean!" Sam called back. Even subconsciously, I could tell that he was trying to keep his tone in control. He moved towards me and caught my wrists, preventing me from grabbing more stuff off the floor. "Stop; you'll hurt your ribs more."

I pulled away from his large hands, desperate tears coming down. This motel, this town was making me claustrophobic. I was on the brink of a full-blown panic attack at this point. I was crying, moving towards the door.

"Dean!" Sam shouted again.

"What?!" Dean stepped out of the bathroom door in a towel, panic and frustration all over his face. He took one look at me and rounded on Sam. "What the hell happened?"

Sam was immediately defensive. "She woke up like this, Dean. She just really wants to head out of town."

Dean grabbed his jeans in a jerky movement and started shoving them on under his towel. His anger and lurching movements reminded me of the other Dean, the one that wasn't real, the one that would rather come at me with the barrel of a gun—

"Oh, God," I cried, clutching my middle as sobs racked through me painfully.

"Hey, hey," Sam tried to soothe me. "Let's get you a pill, OK?" He swiped up one of the pill bottles and dumped a few into his palm. He came towards me with them, and all I saw was his hand reaching towards me, and he was trying to give me something, and I didn't _want_ anything, I just wanted to _go_.

"NO!" I shoved his hands away, spilling the pills onto the crappy carpet. I backed away and scrambled to unlock the door.

"Sam, take her to the car!" Dean shouted.

I flinched and threw open the door.

Sam was next to me instantly, and he gathered a comforting arm around my shoulders. "Hey, we'll get you out of here, OK? We can leave faster if we take the car. Let's go get in the car."

I stumbled at his side towards the Impala, starting to breathe a little better now that we were out of the motel room. Sam hurried to unlock the door with the keys and moved to help me into the backseat.

" _No_ ," I cried, not wanting to go back into a confining space. "I just wanna leave. Let's just walk. I'd rather walk."

"Dean's grabbing our stuff, and then we'll speed out of here, Katie," Sam promised me with urgent eyes. "We just gotta sit in back, alright?"

I gave a nod, but a cry still bubbled out of my throat and tears pushed through my eyelids. I sat in back, and Sam crawled in after. He carefully rotated me so that I could lean against his chest, and I sank into his comfort.

Dean threw our stuff into the trunk and hurried into the driver's side. Sam tossed him the keys, and Dean was revving the engine out of there in the next instant.

Sam held me against his chest, his big arms overlapping me. I started to breathe easier as the town sped by and as I realized that this was Sam and Dean. They wouldn't let anything happen to me.

I closed my eyes, blew out a gust of air, and relaxed against my brother.

"Katie?" Dean's voice was rightfully anxious.

"Sorry," I whispered.

It was quiet for a few long, tense minutes.

"Where am I drivin' to?" Dean asked.

"Anywhere." I opened my eyes to see dark trees stream past the car window.

* * *

We spent the night in some cabin in the middle of nowhere. Sam and Dean pushed pain pills into me when we parked, and I was too pained and tired to care.

It was bright outside when my groans must've alerted my big, hovering brother, because Sam was offering pills and a glass of water in the next minute. I peeled one eye open and looked around. "Where'd Momma Bear Number Two go?"

Sam gave me a strained smirked and nodded his head towards the other bedroom door across the hall. "Hasn't slept much."

I noticed the circles under Sam's eyes with guilt. "Neither have you."

He shrugged, as if to brush it off, but he couldn't deny it. I downed one pill but gave back the other; I didn't want a foggy brain today.

I combed a hand through my hair and was instantly grossed out—grease and knots galore. "Ugh. I'm gonna take a shower; you take a nap."

Sam was instantly closer as I stood up. "I'll help you."

I gave him a look. "I can manage a shower on my own, big twin of mine."

He rolled his eyes. "Let me at least find you a garbage bag to cover your cast."

I shoved him back towards the bed. "Don't bother; I'm just gonna let it hang out the side."

His worried expression overwhelmed his face.

I rolled my eyes this time. "Take a nap. I'm just gonna sit around once I get out anyways."

He sighed in defeat and sat on the king bed. "I'll just rest my eyes. Let me know if you need anything." I gave him a loving smile and ruffled his hair, just the way he hated it. His expression was affectionately annoyed.

* * *

About five hours later, I was slouched on a couch, binging the hell out of the free cable TV mounted on the wood wall.

"How long have you been up?" Dean questioned, strutting into the room behind me.

I flipped through the TV guide. "Not long."

Dean plopped onto the couch, his arm instantly claimed the back of it. "Where's Sammy?"

"Asleep."

I could feel the worry radiating from Dean's eyes. "You've been out here by yourself?"

"I am twenty-four, big brother." I flipped through some trash reality TV, and noticed Dean's interest momentarily captured. I rolled my eyes and dropped the remote on the couch.

"And… how're you today?"

I sighed and ran a hand through my brunette hair. "Better. Sorry about last night… I was… That whole curse thing still freaks me out, I guess."

Dean carefully pulled me closer to him. "You don't have to apologize for anything, kid. I'm just damn grateful you're as OK as you are."

I let out a breath and relaxed against him. "You're a good brother."

He grunted and focused on the trash TV in front of us.

"We're going to have to find Kevin," I said after a while. "Maybe he'll stop murdering people if that coven in the east trains him."

Dean grunted. I smirked, knowing that was as accepting as my brother got.

"And Dean?"

He waited.

"Thank you. For everything."

He settled against me more and kissed the top of my head. "Whatever, kid. It's my job."

 **And that's the end! If you want to leave me a parting review, I wouldn't oppose. ;)**

 **(In regard to any continuation possibilities: a sequel-ish story is in the works, but I have no idea when it'll be close to finished. If you want to stay in the loop on that, I'd recommend following me as an author.)**

 **Thanks, guys!**

 ** _-Alice_**


End file.
